Tomorrow
by MyGirlCrais
Summary: Post WISC. Aeryn's deal with Crais leads her and Crichton to Talyn who's been taken over by an alien with a secret agenda. Then it's on to the Peacekeeper resistance, where Crais learns that complications cannot be avoided...
1. Hangover

Disclaimer: Farscape...is no longer on the air. Do we really still have to do this stuff? You know the drill anyway.

Rating: PG-13

Timing: AU from ITLD:WISC

'Tomorrow' is the second prequel to 'Captain's Prerogative' and takes place after 'His Heaven'. It picks up with Crichton and Aeryn after ITLD2 and then Crais after 'His Heaven' and deals with how the world in 'Captain's Prerogative' came to exist.

Braca's first name is given as 'Alasis', the name I picked for him before the PTBs gave him one.

'Tomorrow'

Part 1: Hangover

"It's a weird feeling Dad," Crichton said quietly, looking at the IASA logo on his micro-recorder. "Kinda like...high school graduation. You think of everything as building up to that moment, you fixate on it. That will be the start of a great new life. And then it's over and you realise that...your friends are all leaving. The people you shared those years with are going after their dreams. It's the end of an era...and things will never be the same again."

He released the record button and laid the device beside him on the table. There was no point in hiding it now, nobody was going to snurch it. Not with Rygel and Chiana leaving. He slowly slid off the table. It was time to go. Time waits for no man, especially if his name is John Crichton.

At the first junction he was joined by Ka D'Argo and they fell into step and conversation, like they'd done a million times before.

"All done?" Crichton inquired.

"Chiana and Jool have spent the last arn arguing about who owns a tube of fellip oil cream."

"Must be Chiana's. Jool refuses fellip anything ever since they made her drink piss."

"I suspect Jool may be resisting on principle."

It could have been any day on Moya. Until...

"So, what's the plan?" Crichton asked, his voice deliberately light.

"Jool used the database on Scorpius' command carrier to find the co-ordinates of a planet with a population of Interions. I will take her there first, the others will find transport when we reach the Onari system."

"And after that?"

"He is posted on board the carrier Vh'trane. It patrols a region of space in the Bhat-tek sector. It may take me as long as half a cycle to reach my destination."

"And if he's not there?"

"Then I will search until I find where he has run to. I may have failed to protect her, but I will not fail to avenge her."

Crichton nodded. "Chi's gonna find her brother. Buckwheat'll try to get his throne back. Jool'll go home. Aeryn 'n' me'll just stay here and wait for the next madman to start chasing us."

"I wish I could make you a better offer, my friend."

"Yeah. Still, I got Aeryn, Crais is dead, the wormhole project is destroyed. Could be worse."

"It probably will be."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

It was, Crichton thought later, nothing more than the morning after the night before.

"John, there is something you should know," Aeryn stated matter-of-factly, as they stood looking out of the viewscreen.

Crichton had seen that look on Aeryn's face before. It was the look she got when she was about to give him some very bad news.

"What?" he asked, electing to get it out in the open before it had a chance to get worse.

"Before he and Talyn starburst, Crais and I agreed co-ordinates for a meeting point, in case they survived."

That son of a bitch! Crichton thought.

"That son of a bitch!" Crichton said. "I knew he'd never sacrifice himself! What was he gonna do? Have a secret meeting, then whisk you away on his flying carpet and show you a whole new world?"

Aeryn's nostrils flared. She looked pissed. "Crais made it very clear that his chances of survival were remote. But, because Talyn is a hybrid leviathan, we agreed that we could not be certain. We therefore thought it prudent to find some way for Talyn to be reunited with his mother if he was able."

"Where are we having this secret rendez-vous then?" Crichton asked, cursing himself for not guessing that Crais would do something like this and trying not to fight with his one remaining mobile companion. The last thing he wanted was her going off on her own.

"Sector four, La-na-nis nebula. I've been directing Pilot to follow a course there ever since we starburst away from the command carrier. We should arrive in a few solar days."

Even better. She and Pilot had been conspiring against him for almost a monen.

"And what about Crais? Even if, by some miracle, he's still alive, Talyn could've starburst to the other side of the galaxy. Are we gonna spend our lives just waiting there to see if he ever shows up?"

"Obviously not. This is why Crais chose that nebula. There are people there who will be able to contact him and Talyn, wherever in the galaxy they are."

"How do you know that?" Crichton asked suspiciously.

"Crais has been there before," Aeryn answered.

"Yeah, and he could be leading us into a trap!" Crichton exclaimed.

"What will it take for you to realise that he's on our side?!" Aeryn demanded, folding her arms.

They'd had this argument countless times before and they would keep having it until Aeryn admitted he was right.

"Okay, so we go to la-la land or wherever it was. We meet the natives, who get us on the phone to Crais. Then what?"

Aeryn had another bad look on her face. This one meant that she didn't know either.

"Aeryn!" Crichton was hissing. "Aeryn, it's an Ompalumpa!"

Aeryn Sun had no idea what an Umperloop was. All she could see were the inhabitants of the planet Ush'taane, in the heart of the La-na-nis nebula. They were small and fat, they had orange faces and green hair. They wore an odd garment - overalls fastened with straps over the shoulders. She was quite certain that she'd never met any of their race before.

The entire population of the planet lived in huge domes on the surface. The planet had no breathable atmosphere, almost no gravity and a day-time high of more than six times optimum. The only reason the planet had been colonised was the accidental discovery of its being able to support these extreme-long-range communications. How exactly it was done was a closely guarded secret.

"If Crais and Talyn have survived, we will be able to find out where they are and speak to them. That is, assuming they have not left this galaxy."

"And if they have?"

"Then it will make little difference whether or not they have survived. They would not be able to return to this part of the galaxy during Talyn's lifetime, let alone Crais'," Aeryn said.

"Assuming they don't encounter a friendly neighbourhood wormhole."

"Indeed."

Aeryn looked around her, irritated. The little Umperloops had welcomed them readily enough, but they had now been sitting here for over an arn. Hundreds of them milled around, occasionally walking into the bright pink walls. The floor unnerved her. It was transparent, what looked to her like rkysatz crystal, and all she could see underneath was liquid - slightly paler pink than the walls. Tiny waves lapped at the barrier, but the complex did not appear to be floating, although Aeryn could see no supports across the entire massive floor. She wondered suspiciously if the liquid was involved in the long-range transmissions. It didn't seem as if it could be a natural occurance, given the planet's natural inhospitality.

Beside her, Crichton shifted his sitting position for the hundreth time. The thoughts of leaving him behind on Moya and seeking her fortune on her own which had crossed her mind now began darting back and forth like lartsa birds. An ex-Peacekeeper and a human. It had been a ridiculous idea from the start.

"There's no way that Crais could really have survived," Crichton was muttering. "No way. He blew himself up. We buried Talyn. It's not possible."

Aeryn ignored him. She'd sworn to Crais that she would do this - on her own honour rather than that of the Peacekeeper she no longer was. Besides, both he and Talyn had great value in the right situation. Aeryn knew that. She'd imagined that Crichton would also know. Stubborn human.

She was about to grab one of the irritating little lemmings by an oversized ear and gain their attention that way, when a pair of them suddenly presented themselves.

"We are ready..."

"...for you. Please come..."

"...now."

Aeryn rose, pulling Crichton to his feet as well. The Umperloops chattered at her side, their habit of finishing each other's sentences exceptionally grating to her nerves. They were led right across the crystal dome to a door in the far wall - too well concealed to be noticed from their previous distance.

Aeryn felt a whoosh of cold air as the door opened and she shivered. They were in a much smaller room now. It too seemed to be fabricated from crystal, but this was jet black and gleaming where the dim light hit it. This room, somehow shielded from the hustle and bustle in the main dome, was silent, except for the now audible lapping of water against the floor.

"Looks like Madame Zelda's psychic tent," Crichton said. "She did my fortune when I was sixteen at the autumn carnival. Come to think of it, I think she said that I'd meet a dark stranger and that the letters A and S would be important to me." He looked thoughtful. "Maybe she wasn't a fraud after all. Hey look, they've even got a crystal ball!"

Aeryn nodded, letting the rest of Crichton's speech go by unnoticed. It was indeed a crystal ball, it must be used to focus energy somehow. This amount of crystal could not be an accident. It was hardly ideal as a building material.

"Sit..."

"...here, if you..."

"...please. We are..."

"...ready."

Aeryn settled herself onto the low bench indicated, next to the table. It too was made of black crystal.

"Do you have..."

"...the information..."

"...we requested?"

Aeryn removed the info-pad with Talyn's bio-signature stored on it from the pouch she had attached to her gun belt and pushed it slowly towards the Umperloops. One of them snatched it up and began jabbering instructions to the other in a language the translator microbes couldn't cope with. The creatures must know Sebacean, or another language that translated well into it.

The other began prodding the table. It was unmarked, at least to Sebacean eyes, but the Umperloop had obviously input the bio-signature, because the crystal ball began to glow orange.

A crackle and the comms flared into life.

'Talyn! Talyn the comms are frelled up again!'

That's not Crais, Crichton mouthed to Aeryn. Aeryn nodded in agreement. Even if the words hadn't told them that, the fact that the voice was female did.

'No, Talyn, the comms have gone fahrbot. There's nothing on the sensors, not even on long range. Communications require ship or planet, they can't come out of nowhere.'

"Actually, they can," Crichton said, for some reason talking to the ceiling.

'Talyn, this is not funny.'

"It's not Talyn, it's John Crichton."

'Who?'

"And Aeryn Sun," Aeryn put in.

'Ah, what appalling timing you have, the voice said. Officer Sun, we've been expecting your communication. Although, where are you transmitting from exactly?'

"A planet in the La-na-nis nebula that is able to support extreme-long-range communications."

'Which?'

"Ush'taane."

'I can see you now. We can be there in one solar day. Stay there and we'll come to you. Don't drink the water.'

"Wait a minute!" Crichton said. "Who are you? What are you doing on Talyn? Where's Crais?"

'All good questions, which I'll answer when we get there. End communication.'

The comms clicked off.

"What the hell just happened?" Crichton demanded. "Someone has just casually taken over Talyn? Who we were supposed to have buried? And what does she mean she can see us?"

"All good questions, which she will answer when they get here," Aeryn said.

"You're in on this, aren't you?"

"On what?"

"You and Crais had some big master plan that I've screwed up by coming along and you know exactly what's going on, but you're not going to tell me."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Am I?"

Aeryn knew there was little point in continuing this conversation, since they had covered this subject in detail on numerous occasions. Therefore she stopped contributing and allowed Crichton to ramble on by himself.

"We require clearance to remain in orbit until our other ship arrives," she stated, confirming what the Umperloops already knew.

"That can be..."

"...arranged."

"Good," Aeryn said. Crichton was still muttering mutinously beside her.

Around thirty-five arns later, when even Crichton's fascination with the Umperloops had waned, Talyn quietly approached Moya and slid into position beside her. Moya's occupants were still asleep, so Moya, Talyn and Pilot chatted happily together. Moya was happy that Talyn seemed so much calmer than the last time she had seen him. He was in good health and she was pleased.

"Okay, I'm up. I'm up, I'm up, I'm up."

John Crichton stumbled slightly as he entered command, yawning as he started to hop, trying to pull his boot on properly.

"What is it, Pilot? Did Talyn get here yet?"

"He has indeed arrived. Moya and I have been speaking with him while you and Officer Sun were sleeping. We both feel that he is much better."

"No more paranoia?"

"Talyn reports that his therapy is not yet complete, but his caraposa is confident that it will not be long before he is fully cured."

"His cara-what?"

"His healer. She is one of a race of beings who aid leviathans in distress. She has had care of Talyn for several monens now."

Crichton stopped, double-checked and then said, "Pilot, it's only been a bit over a monen since we destroyed the command carrier. Crais was still in command then."

"She has been resident on Talyn for almost a quarter of a cycle. Talyn says that he and Crais travelled through time."

"Time?" Crichton repeated. "Oh wait, no. You mean a wormhole. Their damn starburst interfered with all Scorpy's modifications and opened another wormhole!"

"Yes, Crichton."

"I gotta get over there," Crichton muttered to himself. "I gotta meet this caramel girl and find out where Crais is and what on Earth happened after they..."

His voice trailed off as Moya slowly turned and Talyn drifted into view. Crichton stared, his mouth open.

"What the hell happened to him?"

"John!" Aeryn said, striding into command looking perfectly together as always. "Has Pilot heard anything from T..."

She broke off as she too caught sight of the viewscreen.

"Pilot," Crichton said, still staring at Talyn. "What happened to Talyn?"

"I do not understand what you mean."

"He's green!"

And so he was. A deep forest green, with patches of emerald where he used to be red.

"Cymma has informed us that it is a normal part of the healing process."

"Cymma? Oh wait, let me guess, the healer?"

"Yes, Crichton."

"I think we should meet her," Aeryn said. She hadn't taken her eyes off Talyn.

"Right there with you babe," Crichton replied.

Crichton and Aeryn climbed down from their transport pod and gazed at Talyn's docking bay. His interior displayed the same shades of green as his hull. A DRD rolled up to their feet. It too had changed colour.

"She's transformed the whole ship," Crichton said, bending down to inspect the DRD for other changes.

"Talyn still has weapons," Aeryn replied.

"He's quieter," Crichton said, as if he hadn't heard her. "Kind of soothing really."

"We should go to command, locate Crais and this healer."

"No need," the voice from the transmission said.

Both their heads snapped up and they drew their pulse pistols on reflex. She waved them down.

"Put them down. They wouldn't be any use to you anyway and I've had quite enough of this from Talyn's stubborn captain. How I'm expected to heal him with these constant interruptions, I don't know."

"Where's Crais?" Crichton asked.

"He's also healing."

"Here?" Aeryn asked.

"Yes."

"Can we see him?" Crichton asked.

"You can," Cymma replied. "It won't do you much good though."

They followed behind her. Crichton still had one hand resting lightly on Wynona. He silently observed Talyn's new occupant as she led them, turning round every so often to check they were both following her. Her skin was pale and creamy, as if she were Sebacean, but her other features were very definitely alien. Crichton heard himself and laughed inwardly. When had Sebacean ceased to be alien?

She had green eyes like emeralds, but it was her hair that interested him the most. It was green too, but it seemed to be half feathers, with braids twisting around them. It barely reached her shoulders and moved only slightly whenever she turned her head. It was only when Talyn's overhead lights reflected off it that Crichton realised there were cystals threaded on it too.

She led them through Talyn's maze of corridors. For someone who should have been dead, he was in remarkably good shape. Crichton assumed repairs had been completed over the monens that Talyn had been in two places at once; descending into madness with them on board and wherever else he'd been. Time travel, man it made things complicated.

Crichton was just trying to work out whether it was just his imagination or whether Talyn really was wearing spicy aftershave, when the emerald alien came to a sudden halt outside an unmarked door.

"Do not, under any circumstances, touch anything," Cymma said, her tone brooking no argument. Crichton found himself automatically putting his hands in his pockets.

She swiped her palm over the door panel and the door slid open. Crichton followed her in and did a double-take when he saw exactly why Crais couldn't come to the phone.

He was encased in what looked like an egg-shaped cryo-pod. Only his head and shoulders were visible, but he was apparently naked, his thick black locks floating out into a halo in the greenish liquid that filled the pod, his eyes closed. The egg was hooked up to a monitor, which had streams of data running across it in a language that Crichton couldn't even read, let alone comprehend. It emitted a steady beeping sound that Crichton assumed must be Crais' heartbeat.

"What the hell is that?" he said, as Aeryn walked across and began to study the monitor intently.

"A restoration pod," Cymma answered, as if locking people into tanks was something she did every day.

"What does it do?" Aeryn enquired, running a hand down the side of it.

"Don't touch anything!" Cymma snapped. "The slightest malfunction would take arns to fix. I don't have that much time. Nothing must go wrong."

"You don't have that much time for what?" Crichton asked.

"To complete my assignment," Cymma answered tersely. "To resolve Talyn's problems."

"And Crais'?"

Cymma grunted. "It would take cycles to resolve that man's problems. This is merely a way to eliminate the more obvious ones and prevent him from interfering in my work."

"You locked him up in there?!"

"Unconscious was the only state in which I could tolerate him."

"Man," Crichton said, shaking his head, half in admiration and half in disbelief. "Is Crais going to be pissed when he wakes up."

"I am quite capable of dealing with him, once my work here is complete."

"What exactly is your work?" Aeryn asked, abandoning the monitor and joining them.

"Talyn. There are things that must be done to ensure that he is no longer a danger to himself or to the universe."

"You intend to remove his weapons?" Aeryn said.

"No," Cymma replied. "I intend to remove what prevents him using them wisely. I intend to remove his instability. And I intend to remove his captain."

"You're taking over?" Crichton said, fingering Wynona and wondering if they should have brought more fire power.

"I have no interest in any ship, let alone this one. Talyn will be joined with a pilot who can guide him into something other than disaster. Allowing him to remain linked to Crais would have undermined all the work I have done here."

"Would have? You already pulled Crais' transponder?"

"The trellaks have already repaired the damage to his person and removed all the components lodged in his neck. There will be no lasting effects."

"Other than that Crais is going to kill you when he finds out."

Cymma regarded him like he was a pesky six-year-old. "You are quite as irritating as Talyn described you. Please cease all activity in your vocal cords."

"Did she just tell me to shut up?" Crichton asked Aeryn.

"One more word and I will order you off the ship. Kindly depart and leave me to my work."

Crichton drew Wynona and pointed her straight at Cymma.

"What if I don't want to?" he said.

Cymma could not have looked any less intimidated if she'd tried. She held out her hand to provide a target. "Try it," she said.

Crichton, after hesitating a moment, did. Her hand absorbed the energy, briefly glowing green. Cymma folded her arms.

"I told you they'd be of little use to you," she said matter-of-factly.

"I have got a bad feeling about this," Crichton said, striding up the corridor towards Pilot's den.

"I think we all have that feeling, John," Aeryn replied from beside him.

"Talyn smelt funky to me, did he smell funky to you?"

"Funky?"

"Weird, odd, unusual, strange. Kind of like...I don't know. Spicy, musky. Just...different."

"I noticed nothing."

Crichton groaned inwardly as they made a sharp left turn and entered the den. "Why is it always just me?" he muttered. "Pilot! A little help here. What exactly is she doing to Talyn?"

"As I informed you, Crichton, she has almost repaired Talyn's instability. In addition, Talyn has now told us that she is helping him to develop a dampening net."

"Helping him to develop it?" Crichton repeated. "Talyn cannot have one of those programmed into his DNA or Crais would never have wanted to buy one from the Plokavoids. She must be screwing with his DNA. We have to stop her!"

"If that is all she is doing, it may be in Talyn's best interests to let her continue," Aeryn said.

"Yeah, but if she has that kind of power over him, are we sure that she'll stop there?"

"Commander, her people are well known to Moya and I, as they are to all leviathans. We trust her to do what is right for Talyn," Pilot said.

"Pilot," Crichton said, no trace of a smile. "Moya's Gods tried to kill her. I have trust issues now. I say there's something going on that we don't know about - like why does she have a deadline? What exactly is she fixing? And what the frell is she really doing to Crais in the fish tank?" He thought for a moment. "You know what? I am not going to sit here asking these questions. I am going back to Talyn and I'm going to find some way to make her spill the beans. Aeryn, are you coming with me?"

"This will not do any good, John."

"Fine. I'll go by myself."

Crichton sniffed the air. It still smelt, in fact it was stronger now. One more good reason to find out what was going on.

"You've returned," Cymma's dry voice said from behind him. "What an unexpected irritation. I thought I made it quite clear that you were to take up no more of my time."

"I have a few questions I want answered."

"I will give you sixty microts, after which I will return you to your ship whether you wish it or not."

"What's this about a dampening net?"

"It was decided that having additional non-violent defences would aid Talyn in avoiding unnecessary destruction."

"Are you screwing with his DNA?"

"I am making some minor alterations to it. You must realise that his genetic make-up is badly flawed, although what else is to be expected when amateurs meddle in things that are quite beyond them?"

"What's that smell?"

There was a flicker of uncertainty in Cymma's eyes. "What smell?" she said. "Can you describe it?"

"Musky, spicy, kind of familiar, but I can't place it."

"Nothing like...Trellan oil, by any chance?"

Crichton snapped his fingers. "That's it."

"Frell," Cymma said, her brow furrowing while her brain appeared to be working furiously. "Well, you have at least proved that you are not entirely useless. You must remain on Talyn." She paused. "Is Officer Sun your mate?"

"Yes. Sort of. Maybe."

"I would strongly suggest that she join you on Talyn. You are likely to be in need of her services shortly."

"Services?" Crichton asked, with the feeling that he knew where this was going.

"You are aware that Talyn is, in leviathan terms, an adolescent?"

"Yeah."

"And that one of the chief characteristics of that stage is the beginning of mating urges?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Talyn is shortly to enter his first mating cycle. The scent he is producing is an indicator of that."

"Why can't you smell it?"

"Only male leviathans produce these hormones. As you are male, you can detect them and are susceptible to them Hence my recommendation that your chosen partner join us. The urges are liable to be somewhat overpowering and I do not have time to spare to help you with them."

"What the frell is Talyn going to do?!" Crichton said, reeling.

"Locate the nearest female leviathan. Other than Moya, naturally."

"Recap. Horny leviathan teenager, hormones being released into the air stream - and you want me to stay?!"

"The urges will overpower you before Talyn. By monitoring your condition I will have a guide as to how much time I have left."

"You want to watch?!"

"I assure you, I have no interest in your mating practices. You will, however, be useful to me in the meantime. Any objections?"

Several hundred occurred to Crichton. He opened his mouth.

"Your sixty microts are up. I have returned your pod to Moya for Officer Sun. I assume you can find your way to guest quarters."

She disappeared. Into thin air. Crichton stared at the place where she had been.

Another God-like alien. Man, he hated God-like aliens!

Aeryn was slightly bemused when Moya's transport pod flew itself back, and more so when Pilot informed her that she was needed on Talyn. It frankly worried her that inanimate objects had begun to take care of themselves. It did not, however, appear to worry Pilot in the least. Her conclusion, therefore, was that the human had gotten himself into yet more trouble and needed saving. She therefore climbed into the pod, which now seemed content to leave navigation to her, and returned to Talyn.

"What is going on?" she said to Crichton, as soon as she managed to locate him.

"Talyn's hormones have gone nuts, they're leaking into the ship and really heating things up, Captain Emerald won't let me leave because she wants to use me as a thermometer and, in not very long, I'm probably going to pounce on you like I've just taken half a million viagra pills all at once," Crichton said, very fast.

Aeryn blinked. "What?" she said.

"Okay, try again," Crichton said. "There's this smell, okay?"

"I smell nothing," Aeryn said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, I know," Crichton said. "You can't smell it. Only I can smell it."

"Because you're human?"

"No, because I'm a guy and you're a girl and only guys can smell it."

"Why?"

"Just because! I don't know! I didn't take leviathan 101! All I know is that there is a smell, it's a mating hormone that Talyn's releasing into the ship, Cymma wants to use me to see how long she's got before Talyn humps the first female leviathan he can find and I need you here because...well..."

"Because you assume that I will recreate with you," Aeryn said.

"Cymma doesn't have time," Crichton said. "I mean, not that you're not my first choice, because you are, but she said it could get pretty, uh...well, sort of like any port in a storm."

"I am more concerned with how this will affect Talyn," Aeryn said, honestly believing she meant it.

"Aeryn..."

"Talyn," Aeryn repeated.

"Fine, Talyn. Well...it's normal. Cymma doesn't sound worried about the actual mating, just when it occurs. Maybe she's trying to fix him up with some really massive condoms, I don't know. He's a teenager now, he's looking to lose his cherry."

Aeryn really understood only about half of that. In earlier days, she would've spent time puzzling about what a cheri was and why Talyn would want to lose it, but now she just ignored it. It made little difference in most cases and he would generally persist when it was important.

"I wish to speak with Cymma," she said.

"I tried that. She turned me into a lab rat and then she disappeared."

"Where?"

"No, I mean she actually disappeared! She was there and then she was gone. And she made the pod fly itself."

"We need to find out what she is doing to Talyn," Aeryn said. "I suggest we find a way to revive Crais."

"Why?"

"Because he knows the most about Talyn."

"No, it's definitely a bad idea."

"Why?"

"I am not having a hormonally-charged Crais with a hard-on trapped on this ship with you. And damn, I did not need to put that image in my head."

"Fine, John," Aeryn said, exasperated. "How else do you suggest we find out what she's doing?"

Crichton looked thoughtful. "Wait a microt, I think I have an idea..."

"Surveillance logs," Crichton said triumphantly. "At the very least, they'll tell us where to look to find out what she's doing, without us having to wake up Captain Cranky any sooner than absolutely necessary."

"You sound as if you're in favour of having Crais locked up against his will."

"Was there ever any doubt?"

Aeryn started to pull up the logs. She shook her head. "I can't access the recent ones, there's a block and I can't override it."

"So wind back to the command carrier and play from there. There's got to be something after that that will tell us what's been going on."

Aeryn input the command as Crichton came to stand beside her, looking at the screen on the console. They watched for a moment in silence and then...

"Shit, what was that! Hit pause and rewind."

It was what Crichton had thought it was. His father. On board Talyn.

"Talyn, I want to see everything that happened after the command carrier blew up. I want to know exactly who was on board, where they were and what they did. Understand?"

Talyn showed him. He showed him Earth and Jack. He showed him DK. He showed him Crais recreating with Jessica. He showed him Jo receiving the transponder. He showed him Jo dead.

Crichton's face was a picture. It began with awe, moved to joy, mutated into utter fury, then into sorrow, then into deep sadness.

"Oh, God," he said, unable to fully comprehend what he had just seen. "Talyn...tell me this is one of your editing tricks."

Talyn made a sorrowful sound and Crichton sank to his knees, his hands still on the console, his head between them. After a few microts, he spoke.

"I've changed my mind," he said. "We need to wake up Crais."


	2. Sleeping Beauty Awakes

Part 2: Sleeping Beauty Awakes  
  
Bialar Crais, quite reasonably really, expected to see the irritating green creature who had stolen his ship when he woke up and not Aeryn and Crichton. Crichton was holding out a blanket at arms length and had his eyes closed. Aeryn looked as if she could not understand why she chose to spend time with such an incomprehensible creature.  
  
Crais took the blanket and wrapped himself in it, feeling rather wrong-footed at having to greet them like this.  
  
"What, precisely, are you doing here?" he asked. The last thing he remembered was Cymma insulting his captaincy skills. Moreover, memories of what had occurred since he had last seen Crichton were flooding his not-quite-awake brain, which made Crais even less pleased to see him than normal. He'd hoped he would have a little more time to prepare for this encounter.  
  
"Well, a few things actually," Crichton said, casually putting an arm around Crais' shoulders. That alone was enough for all of Crais' survival instincts to start screaming 'DANGER!'.  
  
"Number one," Crichton said. "Some alien chick with feathers in her hair is frelling with Talyn's DNA. Number two, you've been locked in here for three monens and she's pulled your transponder."  
  
Crais reached up to the back of his neck. It was only then that he realised he couldn't hear Talyn anymore. His mind felt too quiet.  
  
"Number three, you went to Earth. Number four, you frelled my sister. Number five, you killed my other sister."  
  
Crais eyed Crichton warily, trying to guess exactly what he was planning to do.  
  
"I thought maybe later we could have a little heart-to-heart about that."  
  
Crais waited. Nothing happened.  
  
"I…that would be possible," he ventured, still expecting Crichton to attack.  
  
"Good," Crichton said. He nodded, looking perfectly composed. "Now, down to business. We need to find you some clothes and hopefully, before Miss Green Eyes looks up from her work, you can fill us in on whatever you remember before she shut you in the fish tank."  
  
***  
  
"So, what happened?" Crichton asked, once Crais reappeared, now fully dressed and clean.  
  
"After our return from…from Earth, she appeared almost immediately," Crais said, "and remained with us for approximately two weekens before…"  
  
"Before she got fed up with you and put you away. We know. What did she tell you about her plans for Talyn?"  
  
"We discussed treatment for his instability and an alteration to his DNA that will mean he develops a dampening net within the next cycle. Both of which I tentatively approved, although I wished to comprehend the process more fully before making a final decision."  
  
"So she kicked you out of the way for asking too many questions?" Crichton said, getting up from Crais' bed and crossing his arms.  
  
"Yes. And now I intend to reclaim command," Crais said resolutely, taking a step towards the door of his quarters.  
  
"First things first. Did she mention anything to you about Talyn's mating cycle?"  
  
"Talyn has not yet reached sexual maturity," Crais answered, stopping and turning back.  
  
"Yeah, he has, or nearly, and Cymma seems to be determined to get something done before he does. Problem is, we don't know what."  
  
"Then I suggest we find out," Crais said, taking another step.  
  
"One other tiny thing," Crichton said, moving to catch up with him.  
  
"What?" Crais said, stopping again.  
  
"Talyn's hormones are sort of…leaking into the air supply. You'll probably notice that he smells a bit odd. Before long, you're going to want to screw everything that moves. Nothing serious, let's get going."  
  
"What?!" Crais said, as Crichton made to join Aeryn, who he'd just about been able to convince to wait outside.  
  
"Yeah, you heard right," Crichton said, stopping at the door and nearly causing Crais to walk into him. "And you come anywhere near Aeryn and I'll cut off any body part that touches her. Understand?"  
  
"Perfectly."  
  
"Good."  
  
***  
  
"I know you're here, I know what you've done and I know what you want to know, but I don't have time!" was Cymma's reaction when they walked into Talyn's reproductive chamber.  
  
"This is important," Crichton said.  
  
"This is far more important," Cymma said, looking harassed. "Far more is at stake here than your curiousity. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Don't change the subject!"  
  
"How are you feeling? This is part of the subject!"  
  
Crichton shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Horny," he admitted.   
  
"How horny?"  
  
"Very, okay."  
  
Cymma stared at Crais, raising an eyebrow. He cleared his throat. "I have…begun to notice the effects," he said.  
  
"Then it cannot be much longer before Talyn…"  
  
"What the hell is that sound?" Crichton interrupted.  
  
Aeryn, Crais and Cymma exchanged glances. "Starburst," they said in unison.  
  
"Shit!" Crichton said.  
  
"I assumed Talyn would last longer than you because of his greater mass," Cymma said, standing quickly and putting one hand against the wall. "I forgot to factor in his age."  
  
"You think?!"  
  
"If you had not kept interrupting me, I would probably have finished my work by now. As it is, all any of us can do is pray to our dieties of preference. Talyn has already located a female leviathan and time has run out."  
  
"And yet you still refuse to inform us exactly what is at stake," Crais snapped.  
  
"It is irrelevant now," Cymma said, as they exited starburst.  
  
"Nothing that goes on aboard Talyn is irrelevant to me. I am his Captain!"  
  
Cymma looked utterly disgusted. "You were bad enough without your libido contributing to your foul mood." She turned to Crichton and Aeryn. "Did you have to wake him up?"  
  
"It was her idea," Crichton said, pointing to Aeryn.  
  
"He agreed," Aeryn said.  
  
"And I did not give either of you permission to begin making decisions for me," Crais said angrily.  
  
"Would you prefer we'd left you in the restorative chamber?" Aeryn asked, folding her arms.  
  
"Will you listen to me?!" Cymma exclaimed. "We have a leviathan to supervise. I have to get to command, you have to stay out of the way."  
  
"I have to get to command," Crais said, stressing the first word. "He is my ship."  
  
"Are we still going to go hormone-crazed?" Crichton demanded.  
  
"Yes and before much longer," Cymma answered.  
  
"Then I want him," Crichton said, pointing to Crais, "as far away from Aeryn as possible. Take him to command, you can deal with him."  
  
Cymma didn't bother to answer. She grabbed the front of Crais' jacket and they both disappeared.  
  
"I really wish she wouldn't do that," Crichton muttered.  
  
***  
  
Crais nearly fell over when they appeared in command, his legs feeling slightly wobbily. That was the second time she'd subjected him to that and he hated it even more now.  
  
"I have told you before. Do not do that," he said.  
  
"Quickest way," Cymma said, moving immediately towards the consoles and starting to scan. "No Peacekeeper presence. Good choice, Talyn."  
  
"I trust that he does not require further attention from us," Crais said. He suddenly seemed to be finding it very difficult to concentrate on what was happening outside. He'd never cared less about Talyn and he had a shrewd suspicion that it wasn't the result of losing the transponder.  
  
The part of his brain still functioning properly pointed out that a few microts ago he'd wanted to throw her out of the nearest airlock. The rest of him didn't seem to consider that an impediment.  
  
"I suppose…that you are not affected by this," he murmured, approaching her with the grace of a Liberion panther.  
  
"I didn't say that," Cymma said, her eyes still on the viewscreen. "I am joined to Talyn, in a manner of speaking, but my species have no need of the same releases of tension as yours. The feelings will subside."  
  
"But you are capable of experiencing it?" Crais asked, lifting her hair off her neck to kiss it.  
  
Cymma closed her eyes involuntarily. "I…uh…this body is not…my permanent form. I am also capable of…existing as energy…which allows me to…move locations instantaneously, but it is…capable of…"  
  
Crais had found his way around to her mouth, turning her so that he was trapping her against the console with his body. "You know so much about this leviathan," he murmured, teasing her lips with his own. "I think it's time you learned a little about his captain."  
  
He claimed her mouth, kissing her passionately, lifting her onto the console and finding she wrapped her legs around his waist. Talyn turned abruptly and both fell backwards onto the floor, neither of them paying the slightest bit of attention to what was going on outside.  
  
***  
  
Some time later, Cymma suddenly sat bolt upright, a horrified expression on her face. "Talyn," she gasped. "I forgot all about Talyn!"  
  
"I believe that leviathans revert to acting entirely on instinct on these occasions," Crais said, sitting up also as he began the long process of untangling his clothes from the pile on the floor. "And, judging by the fact that he appears to have entered a sleep-cycle, I assume that the mating is complete."  
  
"Yes, but the female leviathan!" Cymma said, scrambling to her feet, apparently forgetting that she was stark naked. "Have you forgotten about her? She could have…"   
  
She broke off, staring at the console screen in front of her. "She's gone," she said, starting to hyper-ventilate. "She's gone. What have I done? I let her get away. She could be anywhere. I can't believe I did this. They'll never forgive me. It took so much just to convince them to let me do this. Oh no. Oh…"  
  
Crais rose quickly and pulled her hard against him as his lips met hers in another bone-crushing kiss. It worked, her panic attack subsiding.  
  
"What," he said, when she seemed calm enough to speak again, "is going on?"  
  
"We have to find her," Cymma insisted.  
  
"Why?" Crais asked simply.  
  
"You're not supposed to know," she said helplessly.  
  
"If you tell me, I can assist you."  
  
"If you choose to."  
  
"Do you believe that I will not?"  
  
"They weren't sure."  
  
"Who are they?"  
  
"The builders," Cymma said. "The leviathans' Gods." She took a deep breath. "I was sent here to prevent the conception of anymore gunships. While Talyn is unique, they tolerate his existence, but he must not be allowed to procreate. I was attempting…to prevent him passing on the genetic codes to produce weapons."  
  
"You intend to render him sterile?" Crais said, releasing her from his grasp slowly, moving into the centre of command.  
  
"Not sterile. He will be able to father offspring, but they will be normal leviathans. No weapons, no Peacekeepers functions. Harmless."  
  
"If you can cure Talyn's instability, why can you not insure that his offspring do not suffer from it either?"  
  
"You don't understand," Cymma said, moving over to stand in front of him. Their eyes were exactly level. "Leviathans are peaceful creatures, they are not meant for combat."  
  
"They could be used against both the Peacekeepers and the Scarrans. They…"  
  
"The builders have made their decision," Cymma said, interrupting him. "Now that Talyn has matured it cannot be put off any longer. There will be no more gunships. Either Talyn's sperm is modified…or his existence will be terminated."  
  
"I will not allow…"  
  
"You will not have any choice!" Cymma said. "In view of the fact that it is for the greater good, they would terminate your existence also. You are Talyn's creater. If you refuse to do what is right, they will deem that you are too great a threat and they will kill you."  
  
"Or rather," Crais said, reaching up and gently trailing his fingers down her cheek. "You will kill me. And Talyn."  
  
"I will."  
  
"Are you certain?"  
  
"What occurred here changes nothing."  
  
Crais paused a moment. "I suggest we finish dressing," he said, turning abruptly back to his original task. "And then we will go in search of that leviathan."  
  
The door to command swished open without warning and Crichton stepped through. "Hey Crais, what - oh God no!" he said, covering his eyes and fairly diving back into the corridor. "Oh my eyes! I did not need to see that!"  
  
***  
  
Crais and Cymma pulled on their clothes in silence. They were fully dressed by the time Crichton poked his head round the door again, one hand still covering his eyes.  
  
"Is it safe?" he asked. "Can I come in now?"  
  
"There's nothing to see," Cymma replied, sounding fed up. "What is it you find so disturbing about nudity?"  
  
Crichton glanced at Crais and shuddered.  
  
"Interesting," Cymma said, "that you should be so affected by the body of another male. Have you ever considered that you might be latently homo…"  
  
"Do not," Crichton said, cutting her off, "go there. I am not having that conversation. The only fantasies I have had regarding Crais' naked body involve a winch and a tank full of hungry piranhas. End of discussion."  
  
Cymma replied with a single raised eyebrow as she turned back to the console she had been looking at earlier. "Talyn should have a record of the female leviathan's bio-signature, even with his attention somewhat diverted, I can locate her from that. We can only hope that she has not travelled far, or into Peacekeeper space - although that is unlikely since most wild leviathans know to avoid it for fear of capture. But before we can do anything, we need to wake Talyn."  
  
"He is likely to be out for several arns," Aeryn said, walking through the door.  
  
Cymma looked thoughtful. "Do you happen to have any trellin oil on board?" she asked Crais.  
  
"I…believe so," he answered, not entirely certain what she was proposing.  
  
"Get it."  
  
Crais glared at her. He had no intention of starting to follow her orders.  
  
"Could you bring it to me, please?" Cymma said, looking up and seeing his expression.  
  
Crais nodded sharply. "I will return shortly," he said and marched out.  
  
Crichton turned to Cymma. "Isn't that an…"  
  
"It's an aphrodisiac, John," Aeryn said.  
  
"You're going to put us through that again?" Crichton asked in disbelief, then caught the look that Aeryn shot at him. "I mean, not that it wasn't great, but…I kind of like to feel like I'm myself when I do that and not sort of…possessed."  
  
"It's not an aphrodisiac to leviathans," Cymma replied, turning back to her console. "It will merely act as a fairly mild stimulant, which should bring Talyn round. And you need not be concerned, I have no intention of allowing it to happen again. I will fix the leak before I leave, only time pressures prevented me making repairs before. Ah, I have the bio-signature. Now I just have to look for her."  
  
She put one hand on Talyn's console and disappeared. Crichton turned to Aeryn and was just about to say 'I hate it when she does that' when:  
  
"I've found her!" Cymma said, reappearing and making Crichton jump. "We're in luck, she hasn't gone far. I can take us there in a few microts."  
  
She vanished again before either Crichton or Aeryn even had time to open their mouths to speak.  
  
"What does she mean she can take us there in a few microts?" Crichton asked.  
  
Aeryn, who had already glanced at the view screen, silently pointed to it. Crichton turned, saw and stared. The stars were rushing past them.   
  
"It's like warp speed," he said. "It's got to be as good as starburst, except we actually know where we're going to end up."  
  
They stopped as suddenly as they had begun to move, but without even a jolt. The female leviathan slid into view.  
  
"Can we get her to come with us?" Crichton asked. "This is great!"  
  
Cymma reappeared. "I have spoken with her," she said. "Hopefully we can convince her to allow us on board to see if she has conceived."  
  
Crichton turned to Aeryn. "You wanna go baby-hunting?" he asked.  
  
"Perhaps Cymma and Crais would prefer to see for themselves," Aeryn replied, not quite meeting his eyes.  
  
"Aeryn please. We…uh…we need to try and get some things sorted out."  
  
Aeryn paused. "Very well," she said finally.  
  
"You know where to go?" Cymma asked.  
  
"Yup. Done this before…when it was Talyn in Moya's tummy," Crichton said.  
  
Crais came striding back into command, carrying a small green bottle. "I believe this will suffice," he said.  
  
Cymma took the bottle and removed the cork, taking a sniff of the oil. She blinked several times. "Potent," she said.  
  
Crais had already moved over to a corner of command and was opening a hatch. "I believe this is the most effective way to administer it to Talyn without it affecting us," he said, reaching into the alcove and pulling out a length of tubing that was clearly attached to Talyn's iridescent fluid system.  
  
"That was approximately what I had in mind," Cymma agreed, moving over to him and handing the bottle back to him. Crais slowly poured roughly half the contents into the tube. It wasn't long before Talyn began to stir and wake up.  
  
"Talyn, I need you to speak with your friend and convince her to let us come on board and see if she has conceived," Cymma said. "It's for her own safety."  
  
Talyn gave a sleepy chirp in response.  
  
"Can we tell this soon?" Crichton asked.  
  
"Certainly. It takes very little time. Leviathan sperm can survive less than an arn once it is released," Cymma answered.  
  
"I have one question," Aeryn said. "What if she has conceived?"  
  
Cymma looked grim. "Then the fetus must be destroyed."  
  
"Are you nuts?!" Crichton said. "We go over there and kill her baby and she'll space us! Not to mention how completely horrible unethical that is."  
  
"Then I suggest you pray very hard that she has not conceived," Cymma replied. "Because it will have to be done."  
  
***  
  
Halfway through the entrance, Crichton forgot he was supposed to be ducking and tried to stand up straight, thumping his head as a result.  
  
"Ow! Son of a…" he said.  
  
"You should pay more attention," Aeryn said, moving to join him.  
  
"It wouldn't kill you to offer a little sympathy," Crichton said, rubbing his head ruefully.  
  
"It would waste valuable time," Aeryn said, turning to look at him.  
  
"No more than this conversation already has," Crichton retorted.  
  
Aeryn broke eye contact first and stepped cautiously further into the den. Crichton followed slowly.  
  
"No DRDs," he said.  
  
"No."  
  
"That's a good thing, right? When Moya was knocked up she half-inched the lot."  
  
Aeryn reached the back of the birth chamber and studied the conception sac carefully. "I do not believe she has conceived," she said, after a few microts.  
  
Crichton caught up to her and looked. "I see no baby leviathan," he said, double-checking. "At least I won't have to add baby-killer to my resume."  
  
Aeryn hit her comms. "She has not conceived," she reported, when Crais answered her hail.  
  
"Acknowledged. We await your return."  
  
Aeryn started to make her way back to the door. Crichton touched her arm. "Aeryn," he said. "We really need to talk."  
  
"Here?" Aeryn asked, looking round at the glistening walls of the birthing chamber.  
  
"We've both seen worse," Crichton said, moving his hand up to trail his fingers down her cheek. "Aeryn, I know what happened with you and…the other me…has got things a little messed up, but a lot's gone down since then and I think we should try to sort things out. Make some decisions. Hopefully ones I'll like."  
  
Aeryn looked for a moment as if she would refuse, but then she turned back to him.  
  
"Okay, John," she said simply.  
  
***  
  
"How long will it take to complete the alterations?" Crais asked, standing beside Cymma as she crouched on the floor in Talyn's reproductive chamber, her head tilted to the side as she squinted at the underside of a console.  
  
"A few days."  
  
"Talyn should not enter another mating cycle for several monens," Crais thought out loud. "So there is no hurry."  
  
"I'll have to stay on board a while anyway," Cymma continued, as if she hadn't heard him. "I'll need to prepare."  
  
"Prepare what, precisely?" Crais asked, awkwardly going down on one knee beside her.   
  
"I cannot always change form when I want to. Bringing Talyn out here was a great strain and I need to recover," Cymma answered, her head still under the console.  
  
"Obviously your species has a weak-spot after all," Crais observed.  
  
"Not all, just me. I'm half-Sebacean."  
  
Even Crais' carefully controlled features registered surprise. "Is that possible?" he said.  
  
"What more proof do you need than that I'm here?" Cymma said, coming out from under the console and turning to meet his eyes. "I can transform my Sebacean half to energy too, that's how I can transport you, but it's not easy. It took me cycles to manage even to transform myself. I need to conserve a great deal of energy to be able to take you to your final destination."  
  
"And where is that exactly?" Crais asked. "Talyn and I exited the wormhole too far away from this part of the galaxy to be able to return to it on our own. Do you intend to condemn us to return there?"  
  
"I have somewhere else in mind," Cymma said, getting to her feet and returning to work at the console. "Somewhere I think you'll do well and where they need you. You might find it on your own, but my way is quicker. And since I can be sure that I'll never have another assignment, I may as well make the most of this one."  
  
"Your assignment is a success, surely?" Crais said, following suit and standing.  
  
"I'm half-Sebacean. Guess what my mother was ex-communicated for?"  
  
Crais put a hand on her waist and she turned around to face him, crossing her arms across her chest. "I did not intend for my actions to have such serious consequences," he said.  
  
"Mating hormones tend to override intentions," Cymma said. "And besides, it's not like you could overpower me. It was my decision and I'll live with it."  
  
"Do you regret it?"  
  
"Not entirely."  
  
One of Crais' hands slowly began to work its way round to lie on the small of her back.  
  
"Crais? What are you doing?" Cymma said, neither moving closer nor absolutely pulling back, but keeping her arms crossed.  
  
"I suggest," Crais said slowly, beginning to draw her closer to him. "That when one is about to be executed for stealing, one might as well commit murder as well."  
  
Cymma's stance was gradually softening, she uncrossed her arms and her hands went to his shoulders, where they stayed for a second, as if she was unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. "I…can see a certain amount of…logic, in that," she said.  
  
"My reasoning is perfectly sound," Crais murmured and settled the question by kissing her.  
  
***  
  
A few hours later, the door chimes to Crais' quarters rang. The door opened and Crichton stepped through. The door closed behind him.  
  
"You remember that little talk I wanted to have?" he said. "Well, I think we should have it now."  
  
Crais made to get up from his desk, but Crichton motioned for him to stay. He walked slowly across the room, picking up a chair en route, spinning it round when he reached the desk and settling himself backwards on it. He folded his arms across the back of it and looked at Crais. "Your move," he said.  
  
"What?" Crais asked.  
  
"Your move. I don't know where to start, so you can tell me. How did you wind up getting to my home before me?"  
  
Crais paused a moment, cleared his throat and slowly began to tell the tale, gaining momentum as he went along. When he had finished, he waited in silence for Crichton's reaction. It took a while to come.  
  
Crichton removed his hands from the chair, sitting back slightly as he placed them on the table, his fingers interlocking. "I can't understand it," he said finally, looking at Crais. "I…I can hear everything that you're telling me. I even saw most of it on the surveillance tapes. But I can't make myself really believe it. It's…like a dream. I suppose, if I go back to Earth one day, it'll be real then. But for now…it's not. For me, Earth is exactly as I left it. My Dad has never been on Talyn, DK's not married, Jessica has never even met you and…Jo's alive."  
  
He paused, looking down at his hands.  
  
"I want to keep it that way," he said. "I can't go back, not really. All this time I've been thinking I could slip back into my old life - plus Aeryn. But it's not true. It's over. I'm staying here for the rest of my life. Dad…knows I'm alive now and about Aeryn and everything. I'll just think about that and…forget the rest."  
  
He got up slowly, Crais making no acknowledgment.  
  
"Thanks," Crichton said awkwardly. "For at least trying to help."  
  
He left, leaving Crais still sitting silently at his desk.  
  
***  
  
"So, until we meet again, in thunder, lightening or in rain," Crichton's head on the view screen said.  
  
"Crichton," Cymma said, breaking her previous silence. "If you receive a distress call from Talyn in not very long, don't worry but answer it."  
  
"Okay," Crichton answered uncertainly. "Why?"  
  
"Just do," Cymma said. "You won't regret it."  
  
"Enough of the cryptic clues," Crichton muttered, just before Cymma cut the transmission.  
  
"So," she said, turning back to Crais. "Talyn is all fixed. No instability, no leaking hormones and no next-generation gunships. I'll just take you where you need to go and leave."  
  
"To go where?" Crais asked, slowly moving closer to her.  
  
"Wherever," Cymma said, shrugging.  
  
"Are you not interested in coming to wherever it is you intend to take me?"  
  
"That's not my destiny. Or yours, for that matter. My part is done."  
  
"You know my destiny?" Crais asked, not quite sure still whether he believed in such things.  
  
"No," Cymma said. "I just know it doesn't lie with me. Would you really want offspring who could learn to transport themselves anywhere in the universe?"  
  
"I have not given the subject much thought," Crais said, caught a little off guard.  
  
"It's a pretty obvious answer," Cymma said. "Anyway, to business. When I leave you there will be a ship within communication range. Answer their hail and be nice. The rest will take care of itself."  
  
She laid her hand on the nearest console and vanished before Crais could respond. The stars on the view screen began to flash past again. Crais didn't have long to wait before they stopped. He knew instinctively that she was gone. Talyn's interior already seemed to be changing back to its usual colours. He moved over to the communications console and began scanning the area. There was a ship nearby, just as she'd said.  
  
A microt later the comms crackled into life. "Leviathan gunship, please respond."  
  
Crais straightened up. "This is Captain Bialar Crais of Talyn," he said. "Identify yourself."  
  
"This is Lt. Metzant of the Peacekeeper resistance forces. Captain Crais, welcome. We've been expecting you." 


	3. Val'halla

Part 3: Val'halla  
  
"Sooner or later, anyway," Captain Marvio said, pouring raslak from the bottle on his desk into two glasses. "You realise, of course, that I have been planning this day for over two cycles?"   
  
He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long swallow. "The moment I heard you had defected, I knew that it was time to act, and that I must eventually bring you here. It may be a while since we have served together, but I know what an asset you will be to our operation. Perhaps more so now, with the benefit of further experience. Captain."  
  
"Does that surprise you?" Crais asked bluntly, meeting Marvio's gaze.  
  
"Not in the slightest," Marvio replied, taking another sip. "I never had any doubt that you would rise through the ranks. If you did not let your passion rule you and do something foolish."  
  
"Such as disobey a direct order from High Command in order to pursue the man who caused my brother's death?" Crais suggested, betraying no signs of emotion and taking a sip of his own raslak.  
  
"That sort of thing," Marvio agreed, as if the question were purely hypothetical. Then, directly "Do you regret it?"  
  
The last few cycles flashed past in front of Crais' eyes. He hesitated. "No," he said finally. "I do not."  
  
Marvio topped up his glass and raised it. "To foolish decisions," he said. "Which turn out to be the best you have ever made." Crais joined in the toast mainly out of respect.  
  
"Besides," Marvio said, returning to his earlier point. "You know that I am no longer in need of a lieutenant to carry out my commands. All administrative duties are now on the shoulders of Lt.Hals. She is sensible, conscientious and utterly devoid of any imagination, making her ideally suited to the task. What I need," he continued, leaning back in his chair, "is someone who will work with me. Someone I can rely on to lead after I am gone. We are the only two of Captain's rank to have defected and escaped execution in a hundred cycles. Only you have the skills, experience and ability to take over. Now that you are here, I do not have to concern myself with my own mortality. At least, not if you serve with the commitment I expect."  
  
"I will not fail you," Crais said. He had the most intense feeling of déjà vu, although he wouldn't have called it that. Many cycles ago, they'd had a very similar encounter, when Marvio had done much to cool the hot head of Lt. Bialar Crais. Had his influence continued after Crais had received his first command, things might have turned out so very differently.  
  
"What are your plans?" Marvio asked conversationally, again speaking as one equal to another and taking another draught of raslak, not acknowledging Crais' response.  
  
"To what plans are you referring?" Crais asked, trying to clarify the question.  
  
"This is a whole new life for you," Marvio answered, topping up his own glass again. Then, with the air of someone picking a question completely at random. "Have you considered taking a mate, for example?"  
  
Crais shifted uncomfortably. Lately, that was all anyone seemed to be thinking about.  
  
"I believe that, in my new position, it will be wise to keep myself free from distraction," Crais said, hoping Marvio would leave it at that. The faces of Cymma and Jessica Crichton floated in front of his eyes. Yes, distractions were definitely best avoided.  
  
Marvio paused, his voice becoming almost wistful. "Give it some more thought," he said. "If I were still your age… Well, I am not and there is no sense in dwelling on it, but I advise you not to discount the possibility. Marriage is in no way discouraged here, quite the opposite in fact. I greatly enjoy performing them. It would be valuable if you could set an example."  
  
Before Crais could think of a suitable response to that, Marvio had risen, his Captain's face returning. He handed Crais an info pad that had been sitting on his desk. "A little light reading for you," he said. "New procedures and the like. Your new duties will not commence until you have established yourself here and been cleared for duty by Dr. Taan, so there is no need to devote all your time to it. Enjoy the leisure time, because I cannot predict when more will be available. Things here have a way of being either frenetic or tedious, with no way to predict which. Relax - and that is an order. Dismissed."  
  
***  
  
Late the next day, the door chimes of Crais' new quarters rang for the first time. He turned from the window, where he was trying to adjust himself to seeing blue sky instead of black space, and strode to the door. He activated the controls and it slid open.  
  
Crais spent some nine cycles afterwards trying to forget the intense attraction he felt for the woman on the other side of it. He failed every bit as spectacularly as she did.  
  
"Captain Crais," she greeted him, after a slight pause in which Crais felt her eyes take in every dench of his body. "I'm Dr. Laynie Taan."  
  
That answered his first question. Or maybe not his first, but one of them. He knew quite well that he should have reported to medical that afternoon.  
  
"I realise that I missed our appointment," he said, now rather wishing he hadn't despite his dislike of physical examinations.  
  
"You did indeed," Laynie replied smoothly. "Why?"  
  
"I felt my time would be better spent becoming acquainted with the Captain's methods…and there is no reason to be concerned about my physical condition," Crais said, trying to keep his gaze firmly on her green eyes rather than letting his own take a leisurely journey over the rest of her. He had folded his hands behind his back, on some level convinced that they needed to be kept safely occupied.  
  
"I can see that," Laynie answered, a distinctly suggestive note in her voice.  
  
Crais cleared his throat and bit his tongue to keep from returning the compliment.  
  
"However," Laynie said, lightly but firmly. "That is not the only point of a physical, as you are quite aware. I need up-to-date records in order to treat you effectively if anything does happen to you, and it is quite possible for you to develop a potentially dangerous condition without displaying any obvious symptoms. So, I'll give you a choice. You can come with me now, or we'll do it tomorrow morning."  
  
She paused, giving him a positively wicked grin that very nearly made Crais drag her into his quarters, lock the door and let her examine him more intimately than any doctor ever had before in his life.  
  
"I should warn you however," she said, "that the level one cadets - that's the five-cycle-olds - are going to be touring the medilabs then and I may just ask them to assist me. So, unless you find the prospect of a group of small children prodding you with scanners appealing, I suggest you come now."  
  
"I wasn't aware that there were any children here," Crais said, suddenly becoming very interested in the corridor wall behind her since he couldn't hold eye contact any longer without forgetting how to speak coherently.  
  
"We brought quite a number with us when we left the Peacekeepers and there have been many additions since then, but don't change the subject," Laynie said, leaning on the door frame and blocking his view of said wall. She didn't seem to find eye contact a problem at all, in fact Crais had the strange feeling she could see past his eyes and straight into his soul. And, more importantly, that she was deliberately looking at it.  
  
Crais stared at her for a few microts, trying to do the same thing and finding that he didn't have the gift. "Do you intend our entire professional relationship to be based on threats?" he asked finally, trying not to listen to all the things his body was suggesting he threaten to do to her.  
  
"Only necessary ones," was the composed reply. "Have you made your decision?"  
  
Crais paused while he tried to determine, based on his brief acquaintance with her, whether or not she would carry out her threat. He had a feeling that she would.  
  
"Very well," he said, finding that the prospect of a physical was more appealing than it had ever been before. "You may conduct it now."  
  
"Good," Laynie said, giving Crais another once-over and making his blood temperature suddenly rise several points. "I promise to be gentle."  
  
Crais had to bite his tongue again to keep from revealing that his traitorous body wanted her to be anything but.  
  
***  
  
Crais stood in his quarters on Talyn, his belongings packed into a single bag which sat innocently on his bed. He could hardly believe that his time on board had come to an end.  
  
He took a last look round, picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. Then he resolutely turned and walked out, not looking back.  
  
He was halfway to the docking bay when Talyn announced that Moya had arrived, answering the distress call Crais had sent several arns earlier. Now that Crais no longer had a transponder, they had been forced to resort to more primitive methods of communication, Talyn briefly dimmed the lights in the section Crais was in.  
  
It took Crais several hundred microts to locate a DRD. "Talyn," he said. "Inform Moya that I will come to her shortly."  
  
The DRD blinked back at him in acknowledgement and Crais continued down the corridor, noting to himself that no trace of the green colouring remained. It was almost as if Cymma had never been there at all, except for the tiny fact that she'd turned his life upside down.  
  
He placed his bag in the old prowler Cymma had purchased while he'd been in the restorative tank - no doubt with this day in mind - and climbed into it. It had been a long time since he had flown one, but he was confident he could get from Talyn to Moya without any raised eyebrows. He pulled the top down, stopping for one microt as he wondered whether this would be the last time he saw this sight, and started up.  
  
And then he flew to Moya. No longer Talyn's captain.  
  
"So, what wasn't Cymma telling us?" was Crichton's greeting, when Crais climbed out of his prowler in Moya's docking bay.  
  
"A great deal," Crais answered. "Suffice to say, I have a proposal to put to both of you."  
  
Crichton looked suspicious and moved closer to Aeryn.  
  
"What kind of proposal?" Aeryn asked, as Crichton slipped a possessive arm around her waist. The fact that she didn't remove it spoke volumes.  
  
"Were either of you aware of the existence of a Peacekeeper resistance movement?" Crais asked, setting his bag down at his feet.  
  
Crichton looked surprised. "I kind of thought we were it," he said.  
  
"Apparently not," Crais answered. "It has been in existence for nearly two cycles. In fact, it began shortly after I defected. It is based on the planet we are currently orbiting, although you would find no evidence of that fact if you were to scan it. Naturally this information is confidential. I reveal it to you only because I have authorisation…" Crais paused, "…to invite you to join it also."  
  
"You intend to?" Aeryn asked. "You're leaving Talyn?!" Crichton said, at the same microt.  
  
"I have been offered the post of second in command. And yes, I have accepted it."  
  
Crichton looked stunned. He stared at Crais. "You're going to leave Talyn?" he repeated, obviously unable to believe it.  
  
"Talyn has expressed interest in having a pilot," Crais said. "Cymma and I discussed it at length before she left and, since I no longer have a transponder, I consider it his best option. As to whether he will choose to return at any point, I do not know. He will be free to do as he wishes."  
  
"And this offer…?" Aeryn said, ignoring Crichton.  
  
"Is genuine. Made by Captain Marvio upon my recommendation. Officer Sun, you will receive a promotion to Lieutenant and a place in the flight corps. Commander Crichton," Crais said, hardly able to make himself believe he was going to say this, "you are to be assigned to intelligence."  
  
Aeryn raised an eyebrow at Crais and the two shared a look of half-disbelief.  
  
"So this planet," Crichton said, having apparently gathered a few of his wits. "Is it nice?"  
  
"It is perfectly habitable," Crais answered.  
  
"Yes, but is it nice?" Crichton persisted. "Are there…trees, grass, pretty flowers, cute furry animals that don't bite your fingers off when you stroke them? Does the sun shine? And what about this resistance - are they friendly? We need a few details here."  
  
"The…climate is optimal," Crais offered. "There is considerable vegetation and animal life, although I have not attempted to…stroke any of them. There are sufficient arns of sunshine. The personnel are almost all former Peacekeepers. The original number were brought by Captain Marvio from his command carrier when he defected and more have been added since."  
  
"Is this going to be like the Peacekeepers?" Crichton asked, tightening his hold on Aeryn.  
  
"No," Crais answered, trying not to look as if he'd noticed. "Captain Marvio is…progressive. It seems there are already a number of bonded mates." Crais cleared his throat. "Some of whom even have offspring."  
  
"Sounds good," Crichton said, grinning broadly.  
  
Crais paused. "I must stress that this is a permanent arrangement," he said. "Defectors would compromise the resistance as much as they can the Peacekeepers. If you have any doubt, I suggest you decline the offer."  
  
"Anyone would think you didn't want us there, Crais," Crichton quipped.  
  
"I think we need some time to consider this," Aeryn said.  
  
Crais nodded briskly. "I intend to return to the surface," he said, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "You are cleared to land whenever you choose. Talyn will remain here until you have made your decision, as he intends to travel with Moya to the pilots' homeworld if you remain here. I will inform Captain Marvio that I have put the offer to you and we will await your response."  
  
"Pass our thanks onto the Captain," Aeryn said, meeting Crais' eyes briefly.  
  
"I will do so," Crais replied, pretending not to see.  
  
***  
  
That evening, Crais saw Laynie Taan enter the lounge and head straight for him. He had been sitting alone, quietly enjoying a glass of raslak and reading an info-pad outlining the procedures Captain Marvio had altered for use in the resistance. Or, actually, not reading it. Trying to make himself read it, although his thoughts kept straying back to quite the most enjoyable medical examination he'd ever experienced. Seeing her now, he felt another stab of longing. He had come to the conclusion that, given Marvio's very different stance on personal relationships, he should not recreate with other senior staff members. He very nearly reconsidered, but decided it was just as well that the offer would be made and declined at such an early stage. That was why he invited her so readily to join him - most uncharacteristically. However, it did not go quite as expected.  
  
"I'm not here to propostion you," was her greeting as she sat down.  
  
Crais studied her. "Do you usually begin conversations in this manner?" he asked, realising that she'd already proven his initial character assessment incorrect.  
  
"No, but I thought it should be said," Laynie said, propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her folded hands.  
  
"I did not imagine that that was your purpose," Crais replied, for some ridiculous reason feeling disappointed. He should have been relieved that she had made this so easy.  
  
"Dren," Laynie responded succinctly, looking him straight in the eye. "I think you're the embodiment of pure masculinity. The moment I saw you, I wanted you and I couldn't have made it more obvious if I'd pounced on you right then and there."  
  
Crais tried not to look as if he found the idea as appealing as he did.  
  
"And I'm fairly sure you're not wholly indifferent to me," Laynie added, her eyes grinning at him. "Do correct me if I'm wrong."  
  
"I will," Crais heard himself reply. He dropped his eyes and took a gulp of raslak, wondering what had come over him. He'd never had a conversation quite like this before.  
  
"But CMO and Second is probably a bad combination," Laynie finished. "And I think you agree. So there's an end to it. Unfortunately."  
  
"CMO?" Crais asked, forcing himself to ignore her last comment.  
  
"Chief Medical Officer," Laynie replied. "Sorry, bad habit. That's what we used to call them where I trained, before I was conscripted."  
  
"You were not born into service?" Crais couldn't help asking. He knew from bitter experience how difficult it was for conscripts to reach any position of power.  
  
"It often happens in the medical corps. They let us get trained and experienced on our home planets and conscript us late. Of course we're considered second-rate, except when our skills are needed," Laynie said, removing her elbows from the table and sitting back a little in her chair.  
  
Crais nodded, familiar with the situation. "And yet you rose to become Chief Medic?"  
  
Laynie laughed dryly, shaking her head. "No, nowhere near. I wasn't conscripted until I was thirty-three cycles old, so I was never considered a real Peacekeeper. I was at the bottom of the chain of command, being called to observe procedures and ending up doing them. Then Captain Marvio asked me to go with him. As you can see," she said, smiling, "it was an excellent career move. Besides, I love it here."  
  
"Did you know him well?" Crais asked, taking another sip of raslak.  
  
"Does anybody ever know their Captain well?" Laynie asked casually, giving Crais the feeling that she was avoiding the question. "My record speaks for itself. I was always the little farm girl grown up, so I was the natural choice to start things here."  
  
"You were raised in a farming community?" Crais asked, his interest increasing despite himself.  
  
"Yes and, before you ask, I have seen your record. I know you were too."  
  
"I remember little about it," Crais reluctantly admitted.  
  
"Shame," Laynie said regretfully. "It would have been nice to talk about it, but even so I hope we can be friends."  
  
"Friends?" Crais repeated, studying her expression closely.  
  
"Well, naturally I'd prefer to spend this evening finding out if you taste as good as you look, but I'll just have to use my imagination," Laynie answered, dead-pan, leaving Crais aching to know if she meant that literally. "Seriously now," she continued, her tone becoming more professional. "I want us to have a good working relationship. Captain Marvio speaks highly of you and I know that you will be heavily involved in everything that goes on here. He and I are in the habit of being in each other's confidence and I'd like to extend that to you." She smiled, teasing again. "If nothing else, I have the authority to relieve you of duty, so you should try to keep on my good side."  
  
Crais sat back in his chair and used a mouthful of raslak as an excuse not to answer, while he took a moment to observe her. She had blond hair, pulled up into an untidy ponytail, an open face and a warm smile. This was no young Lieutenant, gazing in awe at her Captain, but a grown woman who saw him as an equal. It was something he was finding increasingly that he liked.  
  
"I will endeavour to," he said finally, having swallowed his raslak.  
  
Laynie didn't respond immediately. She was biting her lip and Crais wasn't quite sure how to interpret her expression. In fact, he wasn't quite sure about what to do next either. He was conscious of two impulses. One to drag her back to his quarters - or hers, whichever were nearest - and find out exactly what was hidden beneath her black and silver uniform, the other to talk to her, to hear about her past, her life here, everything in fact. He couldn't recall ever having had this problem before.  
  
"Are your friends going to be joining us?" Laynie asked, bringing Crais out of his reverie. He looked at her in surprise. She smiled. "This is what I mean about being in the Captain's confidence," she said.  
  
"I received a message from them earlier today," Crais answered. "They intend to be here shortly."  
  
"Good," Laynie said, smiling again, her eyes glowing in a way that made Crais feel warm inside. "I'm looking forward to meeting them."  
  
***  
  
Crichton looked up, down and all around, staring at the place he now proposed to call home, setting his kit bag down on the ground beside Aeryn's.  
  
"I feel like I've been accepted into Starfleet Academy," he said as he turned to her, a look of wonder on his face. "This place is incredible! If the rest of the operation is this well put together, we might actually have a shot."  
  
He took a breath, relishing the crisp taste of the fresh air, squinting as the bright sunlight, reflecting off the huge purple lake by the complex, momentarily blinded him. He scanned the landscape, taking in the gardens, the green forests and the mountains dominating the horizon. This place was perfect. As much as he hated to admit it, Crais had done him a great favour.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and turned to see Crais striding across the neat lawns towards them. At his side was a petite, red-headed woman (so petite that she was obviously struggling to keep up with Crais' long strides) whom Crichton didn't know.  
  
"Commander Crichton, Lieutenant Sun, welcome to Val'halla," she said when she and Crais arrived, sounding slightly out of breath. "I am Lt. Hals. Captain Marvio has instructed me to bring you directly to his office. Please follow me."  
  
"Doesn't mince words, does she?" Crichton muttered to Aeryn, as they picked up their bags and strode after her. Crichton fell into step beside Crais. "They already give you the tour, Bialar?" he enquired, in a tone that was almost friendly.  
  
Crais answered with one deliberate nod. If he was surprised at Crichton's use of his first name, he didn't show it. "I have already had time to acquaint myself with the layout."  
  
"You'll have to take orders again," Crichton observed.  
  
Crais' eyes remained fixed straight ahead. "Indeed," was the only comment he made.  
  
Crichton was silent for a moment, then 'Wonder how long that'll last." He dropped back to walk beside Aeryn, receiving no answer from Crais.  
  
They left the gardens and entered the complex through a pair of huge double doors. They marched along grey corridor after grey corridor until Crichton began to wish he'd tied a string or dropped breadcrumbs or something, because he was utterly lost. Maybe if he asked, they'd give him one of those pop-up maps. The Burger King fun map of resistance HQ. Yeah, that would be good.  
  
They turned a corner and came to a halt outside the third door on the left. Lt. Hals knocked, a voice called 'Enter' and they filed in - Lt. Hals in front and Crichton bringing up the rear feeling like he'd been called to the Headmaster's office.  
  
Crichton would've pegged Captain Marvio as being around sixty. He had greying hair, bluish eyes strangely reminiscent of the paintwork on Crichton's first car and the kind of face that you instinctively trust. He was not at all how Crichton had pictured the founder of the Peacekeeper resistance, but then how often were things the way he expected them to be?   
  
He stood at attention beside Aeryn and Crais, wondering how this would turn out. Right at the edge of his field of vision, he saw Marvio exchange glances with someone - it must have been Crais. Marvio's gaze flickered past Aeryn and rested on Crichton for a few microts. Then he spoke.  
  
"Your reputations precede you, Commander, Lieutenant," he said, eyes shifting from one to the other. "And Captain Crais has been good enough to fill in the gaps in my knowledge. Lt. Sun, I have your personnel file from the Peacekeepers, which I believe we have updated accurately. Commander Crichton, it will be necessary to assist Lt. Hals in compiling one for you. You are both scheduled for medicals in three arns and are expected to keep this appointment."  
  
Was it Crichton's imagination, or had Marvio been looking right at Crais when he had said that?  
  
"I suggest you use this time to familiarise yourself with your new surroundings," Marvio continued. "Lt. Hals will show you to your quarters. I will hopefully find time to have further discussions with each of you before you begin your duties. Do you have anything to say?"  
  
Aeryn jabbed Crichton in the thigh with her finger.  
  
"There is one tiny thing," he said awkwardly. "We…have a new enemy. Grayza - the love child of Dracula and Cruella De Ville. She's…interested in me. And once she finds out that I'm in the resistance…she'll probably be interested in you."  
  
"A useful time to make alliances," Marvio remarked dryly.  
  
"We've done alright on our own," Crichton said defensively. "And Commandant Cleavage isn't a patch on Scorpy, or Crais for that matter. She shouldn't actually cause any trouble, I just wanted to let you know that she might show up."  
  
"I will inform reconnaissance," Marvio answered, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across his stomach. "Report to my quarters once your medical is complete and we will discuss it further. Dismissed."  
  
***  
  
More grey corridors. The planet was beautiful, but they were badly in need of an interior decorator. Maybe he could talk Crais into… Yeah, right, what were the chances? He must be going nuts.  
  
Lt. Hals stopped suddenly, like she was being remote-controlled and someone had just hit the stop button. She turned to Crichton and Aeryn.  
  
"These are your quarters," she said.  
  
"Whose?" Crichton asked, pointing to Aeryn and then to himself. "Hers or mine?"  
  
Lt. Hals looked confused. Crichton could almost hear her thinking 'That does not compute'. She produced a tiny info-pad out of a pocket Crichton hadn't even realised she had and began rapidly pressing buttons. The grooves in her forehead deepened as she studied it with total concentration.  
  
"Assignment alpha-415, quarters section 10, lurg beta-6. Lieutenant Aeryn Sun and Commander John Crichton," she stated. "Double quarters, as requested."  
  
It was Crichton's turn to be confused. "I didn't request double quarters," he said.  
  
Aeryn opened the door. Crichton saw spacious quarters, with a view of the snow-capped mountains in the distance. And a double bed.  
  
"Have you any objections, John?" Aeryn asked, as she moved into the room and set her kit bag down on the bed. She started to unbutton her heavy jacket as she looked back at him.  
  
Crichton started to smile. "None whatsoever," he said. He turned to Lt. Hals. "This is perfect," he said, grinning madly. "Absolutely perfect. Thanks so much."  
  
"Please report punctually for your medicals," was the response.  
  
"Will do," Crichton promised cheerfully. "We'll be there. Both of us. Together."  
  
***  
  
"Commandant Mele-On Grayza. Currently on board the command carrier Bhas'kaar, which is under the command of Captain Alasis Braca. Unexceptional service record, appears to owe her rank entirely to a Heppel gland implant. A practice which is only not outlawed because the patients tend not to survive long enough for it to matter."  
  
Captain Marvio glanced at Crais before continuing to read, walking slowly round his office. "However, she appears to have been around quite a while. Obviously she has another little trick concealed somewhere on her person. Nevertheless, I concur with the Commander's assessment. She is nothing to be concerned about unless she comes to us."  
  
"Which she most likely will do," Crais said, idly looking out of the window. He still hadn't got used to grass. He looked back at Marvio. "Those who develop an interest in Crichton, of whatever nature, tend to find that it increases beyond what they can control."  
  
Marvio paused, setting the info pad down on his desk before moving over to stand beside Crais. Crais had to raise his chin slightly to look him in the eye.  
  
"Does that include Lt. Sun?" Marvio asked, his eyes twinkling.  
  
Crais looked away, clearing his throat. "I believe…that would be an accurate assessment of their relationship," he replied.  
  
"You disapprove?"   
  
"I have no strong feelings on the subject," Crais said, moving away from the window and back towards the desk.  
  
"I strongly suspect you of telling untruths, Captain," Marvio said, following Crais and settling himself back in his chair. "But then, on some subjects you retain that right."  
  
Whatever answer, if any, Crais had intended to give was lost when he suddenly sneezed four times in quick succession.  
  
Marvio raised an eyebrow and looked at Crais quizzically, folding his hands over his stomach. "For someone who has just been declared in perfect health, that is rather unusual. Particularly since Dr. Taan no doubt made a very thorough examination of you."  
  
Crais looked back at him. Marvio's eyes were twinkling. Did the two of them tell each other everything?!  
  
"I am quite certain that it is nothing serious," he said firmly.  
  
"Nevertheless, maybe I should send you back to her. She consistently performs above and beyond the call of duty."  
  
"Captain," Crais said, unable to meet Marvio's laughing gaze again. This was a side of Marvio he'd never seen as a Peacekeeper. "I would prefer it if this discussion were terminated."  
  
"Certainly, Captain," Marvio said mildly. He opened a drawer on the left side of his desk and extracted a small, round something which he proceeded to pop into his mouth. He smiled amusedly at Crais. "I wouldn't dream of interfering between the two of you."  
  
"There is nothing…!" Crais started to say, irritably and at a rather louder volume than he had intended. He stopped and began again, attempting a rather more composed tone. "There is nothing between us, other than the beginnings of what I hope will be an efficient working relationship."  
  
"I am happy to hear that," Marvio said. Crais was certain that he didn't believe a word.  
  
"I would have imagined that you would be the last person to encourage relationships between your senior staff members," Crais said, fixing Marvio in his gaze.  
  
Marvio paused. "Perhaps you are right," he said, slowly sucking on the sweet. "Certainly passionate affairs with disastrous endings are best avoided, although I have confidence in my staff's self-discipline. I have let it be known that personal relationships are not to impact on duties anymore than is unavoidable. So far it has not caused any great difficulties. But, there is a first time for everything."  
  
"Indeed," Crais said, nodding briskly, hoping that he had made his point and this disconcerting conversation would end.  
  
"You may go," Marvio said, waving one hand towards the door. "Hopefully Commander Crichton will be here shortly to contribute to our knowledge of Commandant Grayza. In fact, I cannot imagine why he is not here already."  
  
Crais managed one step towards the door before Marvio's comms came to life.  
  
"Hi, it's me," Laynie's voice said.  
  
Crais started. He'd never in his life heard anyone address their commanding officer so casually, regardless of their relationship with them.  
  
"Excellent. Can you clear up the mystery of the Commander's whereabouts?" Marvio asked, not even blinking at the greeting.  
  
"He'll report to you in an arn or two. I granted him…personal leave. I'm quite sure he'll let you know why when he comes. Indeed, you'll be lucky if you can persuade him to talk about anything else."  
  
Marvio smiled. "Thank you for informing me," he said.  
  
"No problem. See you later." The comms channel shut down.  
  
Crais looked incredulously at Marvio. "When did you begin to allow other officers to address you in that manner?" he asked.  
  
Marvio took a moment to answer. "The relationship between Commander-In-Chief and Chief Medic is different to that between other staff members, in that we operate in different spheres. In a medical capacity, her authority even exceeds mine. And our personal relationship is, as you have insisted, none of anyone's concern except ours."  
  
The thought of what that relationship might be made Crais feel quite ill, but he nodded briskly and started towards the door. He rather hoped Marvio would make further comment before he reached it, but he was disappointed. He had no choice but to leave with his question unanswered.  
  
***  
  
While Crais was being probed by the man he'd agreed to serve indefinitely, Crichton was giving Aeryn a practical demonstration of centripetal and centrifugal forces. Which is to say, he had her in his arms and was spinning her around in a circle.  
  
"John, put me down," she insisted, starting to look vaguely green.  
  
Crichton did, only to crush her to him in a hug that nearly punctured a lung. "I can't believe it!" he exclaimed for the tenth time, grinning broadly. If the rest of their new life turned out as well as everything had so far, he would be the happiest man in the universe, bar none.  
  
"It is only a pregnancy, John. They are not uncommon."  
  
"They are for us, baby!" Crichton replied, seizing Aeryn's hands and holding them tight. "I can't believe we're gonna be parents! John Robert Crichton III, sounds great!"  
  
"There is an equal chance that the child will prove to be female," Aeryn pointed out.  
  
Crichton shook his head, still smiling as wide as his face could stand. "First is always a boy, runs in the family. The next'll probably be a girl," he said happily, visions of six children - who bore a striking resemblance to the Brady Bunch, only with their colouring reversed - floating before his eyes.  
  
"Next?" Aeryn repeated, sounding rather dazed.  
  
"Well, you wouldn't want him to be lonely, would you?" Crichton said, not waiting for an answer. "And now we're going to be settled here, this is a great place for a kid. We can teach him to swim in the lake and there's other kids for him to play with. This is going to be great!" He was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, feeling crazily like he might break into song, broadway-style. Damn, this was a dream come true!  
  
"John, we are not safe here," Aeryn said firmly, extracting herself from his grip. "Destroying Scorpius' command carrier has only made the price on our heads higher and joining the resistance will give yet another reason for the Peacekeepers to target us. This planet may seem protected, but it is only a matter of time before we are found. We should think carefully if we wish to bring a child into this."  
  
Crichton looked soberly into her eyes and hoped she wasn't implying what he thought she was. "Aeryn, I am not going to let you kill our baby," he stated flatly, folding his arms across his chest. "There's no way I can stand by and let you do that. This may not mean anything to you, but it damn well means something to me."  
  
"I never said that it did not mean anything to me," Aeryn said, folding her own arms. "John, the fetus is in stasis. Those of us born into service can maintain one in that state for up to seven cycles. This can be delayed."  
  
"Until when?" Crichton asked quietly, only slightly comforted by her words. "You know as well as I do that our lives are never gonna be like the frigging Waltons. You think I don't realise that we're always going to be in danger? I do. But I don't want to spend my whole life missing out on everything that really matters to me, just because there's a chance that it may not turn out okay."  
  
He moved away from Aeryn, towards the window, seeing blue skies that shouldn't have felt like a novelty. He watched a bird, with emerald feathers that reminded him briefly of Cymma, fly from one tree to another to join its mate. Then he spoke calmly.  
  
"I know this isn't the perfect time," he said, turning slightly to look back at her, "but it's as good as it's ever gonna get. I want to have this baby, Aeryn. I want to start our family. I want one piece of my screwy life the way it should be. Don't take that away from me."  
  
"I don't know how to be a mother," was Aeryn's only response, indirectly telling Crichton he had made his point. He said a silent thank you to whatever divine beings there might be.  
  
"I've seen you with Talyn," he said, moving back and sliding an arm around her so he could pull her gently into his embrace. "And I know you're smart. You can figure it out. I have to learn too."  
  
"You've always seemed comfortable with children," Aeryn said, letting her head rest against his shoulder.  
  
"I've just been around them more," Crichton answered. He bent his head slightly to kiss the top of hers, closing his eyes as he breathed in. She'd scented her hair again. "I know you'll be fine when our baby comes."  
  
He went to kiss her head again when a thought occurred to him. "How long does it take anyway?" he asked, realising that he had no idea. He couldn't exactly go searching on Amazon for a Sebacean version of 'What to expect when you're expecting'.  
  
"Seven monens," Aeryn answered, turning slightly and looking up at him, but leaving her head resting on him.  
  
"And he's frozen when?" Crichton asked, not entirely clear on the science.  
  
"Only shortly after the moment of conception."  
  
"So can we…defrost him?" Crichton said, excitement beginning to creep over him once again.  
  
"I am sure Dr. Taan would be willing to remove the stasis field," Aeryn answered, moving out of his embrace again.  
  
"Then let's go!" Crichton said.  
  
Aeryn turned towards the door, but Crichton grabbed her hand. "I forgot something," he said. Feeling more than a little nervous, he slowly went down on one knee.  
  
"I don't have a ring," he said shyly. "So pretty much all I've got to offer is myself. Aeryn Sun…will you marry me?"  
  
Aeryn stood for a moment, looking at him, but without showing any reaction. Then she took a deep breath and opened her mouth.  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
"Come in," Aeryn said quickly, just as Crichton went to tell whoever it was to go away. Their timing was unbelievable.  
  
It was Crais. Of course it was Crais. Every frelling time he and Aeryn got something good going…  
  
"Don't even think about it," Crichton said, still kneeling in front of Aeryn, not taking his eyes off her. "Out. Now."  
  
"I do apologise," said a dry, distinctly sarcastic voice.  
  
Okay, so it wasn't Crais.  
  
Crichton got to his feet. He'd been here less than a solar day and he'd already managed to commit insubordination. "Sorry, Captain," he said, sheepishly. What did it matter? The mood was ruined anyway.  
  
"Quite all right. I do apologise for interrupting…whatever you were doing."  
  
Sincerity was evidently not one of Captain Kinsella's dominant traits. Crichton watched her sharp eyes take in everything in the room in an instant. He was sure she'd missed nothing. He'd met the woman for less than half an arn while he and Aeryn had been exploring and he was already scared of her. She was Head of Intelligence - a Sebacean Judi Dench, only twice as intimidating.  
  
"I have information that may be of interest to you," she said, her dark eyes scrutinising him. "Of course, your duties have not commenced yet, so you are under no obligation to come with me now."  
  
Except that, if I don't, you'll make sure I spend the next twenty cycles making coffee and picking up your dry-cleaning, Crichton thought. He glanced at Aeryn, who was avoiding his gaze.  
  
"I can spare the time," he answered.  
  
"Excellent." She said it exactly as Scorpius once had. Crichton shuddered.   
  
He turned back to Aeryn at the door. "We can talk about this later, I guess," he said hopefully.  
  
Aeryn nodded mutely.  
  
***  
  
"Wait. I've come into the cinema halfway through the film. How do we know this?" Crichton looked at Marvio behind his desk, Kinsella at his elbow and Crais at the window.  
  
"Informers," was Crais' matter-of-fact response.  
  
"We have informers on Grayza's ship?!" Crichton asked in disbelief.  
  
"We do now," Kinsella replied, as if this were no great achievement.  
  
"In the last four arns, you've managed to plant a spy?!"  
  
Kinsella's eyes narrowed. "Do you mean to imply that I could not accomplish this?" she said coldly.  
  
"So didn't mean that," Crichton said quickly, instinctively backing away from her.  
  
"Good," Kinsella answered, eyeing him distrustfully. "As it happens, that was not necessary. We have had outside assistance." She sounded positively disgusted by the fact.  
  
"From who?" Crichton asked.  
  
Marvio folded his hands across his stomach. "Someone I believe you are acquainted with," he said. "Captain Braca."  
  
"Braca?!" Crichton said. Crais didn't react at all, which could only mean that he already knew. Damn, he hated it when he was the one who had to be brought up to speed.  
  
"Braca's a spy for the resistance?" he asked, looking from Crais to Marvio to Kinsella. Then, after a moment's pause in which his forehead furrowed in thought. "Braca's a Captain?"  
  
"It is astonishing that some people obtain high rank," Kinsella said in her dry voice. A remark that was so unquestionably aimed at him that he might as well have had a bull's eye painted on his chest.  
  
"He is not a spy," Marvio answered. "Our aims have…temporarily merged."  
  
Crichton grabbed the back of the chair opposite Marvio's, span it towards him and sat on it, ignoring Crais' raised eyebrow and Kinsella's icy glare.  
  
"I wouldn't be here if you didn't think I could contribute and to do that I need to know everything," Crichton said, a part of him wondering if he really was important enough here to get away with this. "So spill."  
  
He saw Marvio's gaze flick up and across to Crais. He knew without looking what expression Crais would have on his face. He didn't dare look at Kinsella.  
  
Marvio looked back to him, meeting his eyes without blinking.  
  
"Commandant Grayza is attempting to make a deal with the Scarrans," he said.  
  
"Shit! Is she crazy?!" Crichton said.  
  
"Quite possibly," Kinsella replied. Crichton looked over at her then, just in time to see storm clouds appear out of thin air. Her lips were pinched tightly together. "Lazy is the adjective I prefer. She has made it a habit to take whatever shortcuts she can, no matter what the consequences. She never had any understanding that all things of value are only acquired through hard work, dedication and sacrifice."  
  
Hit a nerve, Crichton thought. I wonder what…  
  
"Braca has requested that we aid him in thwarting Grayza's plan," Crais said, interrupting Crichton's train of thought. Crais covered the distance to the desk in two strides. "Obviously with the understanding that his part in it is not mentioned." Crais' lips twisted into an ironic smile. "It appears that Braca is finding it difficult to command his own ship."  
  
"Your old ship must have been jinxed," Crichton said, grinning despite himself. "First you, then Scorpius, now Braca. Anyone who served on that Command Carrier is doomed to have their careers screwed up."  
  
"I might also point out," Crais said, a ghost of a smile on his face. "That the other common factor is you."  
  
"You served with them all too," Crichton replied, his expression turning smug as he realised he had an answer this time. "And I never did anything to hurt your career, you wrecked it all on your own."  
  
"As fascinating as this is," Kinsella broke in, her voice dripping sarcasm as she fixed Crichton with a stern stare. "Your verbal sparring can be reserved for off hours. I will not have a member of my staff wasting the Captain's time. At least attempt to act as if you are not so wholly without self-discipline."  
  
Crichton opened his mouth to ask why she wasn't getting on Crais' back too and then closed it again. He'd only piss her off more. Geez, he hadn't even started work yet and his boss already hated him.  
  
He forced himself not to glance at Crais. He couldn't stand seeing that smug smile. "Yes, sir," he made himself say, starting to wonder if this hadn't been a mistake after all.  
  
Kinsella continued to give him her evil-queen glare, so Crichton settled his gaze in between the two of them. It therefore landed inevitably on Marvio.  
  
"Commander," he said mildly, as if Kinsella had never spoken, "Captain Crais, I am sending you both on the first stage of this mission, as you are already known to Captain Braca. Your assignment is strictly reconnaissance. He is to furnish you with the details you will need concerning Grayza's plans and whereabouts. Obviously this meeting is off the record on both sides. Your ship holds a flight plan. You are expected by our contact there and she will make contact on arrival. Any questions?"  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Crichton saw Crais shake his head firmly. "None, sir," he said, then glanced at Crichton, who hastily looked back to Marvio.  
  
"Commander Crichton, the Captain expects an answer," Kinsella snapped.  
  
"None, sir," Crichton said quickly. God, any moment now she was going to pull out a whip and start lashing him with it.  
  
"Captain Kinsella," Marvio said, acknowledging her presence for the first time. "If you would be so good as to allow me a quick word in private with your new recruit? I believe we are finished here otherwise."  
  
"Of course, Captain," Kinsella answered, with a frankly sadistic smile that made Crichton's blood run cold. She turned smartly and marched out, head up and back ramrod straight. All three men watched her leave.  
  
"Scary, is she not?" Marvio said, when the door was safely closed again. "She was my Second, you know, when I left the Peacekeepers. There was not a man, woman or child on that ship who did not straighten up if anyone so much as mentioned her name. Quite the most efficient Lieutenant I ever had. My only fear was that she would overthrow me." Marvio smiled. "Eleven cycles and I am still waiting."  
  
"She hates me," Crichton said. What else could he think?  
  
"Very much so," Marvio answered cheerfully, as Crais nodded calmly beside him. "I knew she would do."  
  
Crichton honestly wasn't sure how to respond to that. He opened his mouth to speak several times and stopped on each occasion.  
  
Marvio leaned forward, resting his elbows and clasped hands on the desk in front of him. "However," he said. "In time, you may find that that is to your advantage."  
  
Was it his imagination, or had Marvio just winked at him?  
  
"We are to depart immediately," Crais said, giving Crichton no time to debate the question.  
  
"Immediately, immediately or immediately, in an arn would be fine?" Crichton asked, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "When I got called here, me and Aeryn…well, we were kind of in the middle of something."  
  
Marvio leant back in his chair again. Beside him, Crais eyed Crichton suspiciously.  
  
"Something important enough to delay the mission for?" Marvio asked, his tone neutral.  
  
"I just asked her to marry me," Crichton replied, silently pleading with Marvio to understand. He felt Crais' incredulous stare on his cheek.  
  
Marvio folded his hands across his stomach again. "Half an arn," he said.  
  
Crichton breathed a sigh of relief, just as Crais inhaled sharply.  
  
"Thanks," he said gratefully.  
  
Marvio smiled, ever the good guy. "Best of luck," he added. "Dismissed."  
  
Crichton gave him a quick smile, carefully avoiding catching Crais' eye, and hurried out. Once in the corridor, he picked up his heels and ran flat out.  
  
Time to have his most important question answered. 


	4. The Captain's chair

Part 4: The Captain's chair  
  
In their entire acquaintance, Bialar Crais did not remember ever having seen Crichton quite so professional. So Peacekeeperish in fact. No jokes, no insults, not one incomprehensible remark. He was utterly unlike himself. Which could only mean one thing, his meeting with Aeryn had not gone as he'd hoped.  
  
Crais made a half-hearted attempt not to act too pleased.  
  
Not that he still sought Aeryn himself, more that he resisted to their relationship on principal. Although since he had now broken Peacekeeper codes and recreated with a non-Sebacean - and one far more alien-looking than Crichton at that - he wasn't quite sure what principal that was.  
  
He watched Crichton out of the corner of his eye, methodically performing scans that Crais had not even ordered. He could of course insist that Crichton desist and spend the entire journey with only his own thoughts to occupy him, but perhaps that would be beneath him.  
  
Three other officers milled in the background, making up the full compliment of the marauder, none of them known to Crais. He derived a certain amount of satisfaction, however, from knowing that they were under his command. Second to Marvio he could stand. For now.  
  
"ETA, two arns," Crichton said mechanically. Then, after a pause. "Estimated time of arrival, two arns."  
  
It was the first time, that Crais could recall, that Crichton had ever translated himself for Crais. Perhaps it was a sign that this had gone on long enough.  
  
"You may leave your post and make preparations for our assignment," Crais said, moving his gaze to the view screen. He felt rather than saw Crichton glance over at him.  
  
"Thanks," Crichton said wearily, sliding out of his chair. "I mean yes…sir."  
  
Less grudging than Crais had expected.  
  
He waited until the door to command had slid shut, muffling Crichton's plodding footsteps, noting that one of the nameless officers took over his tasks without Crais having to trouble himself to give a command. He carefully controlled a smile. He had new appreciation for the chain of command. Or, rather, for being at the top of it.  
  
"Lt.," he said, not troubling himself over what her name might be. "Inform me the microt we are within communications range of the planet. And be alert for contact by our reconnaissance officer."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
He would never, ever, get tired of hearing that.  
  
***  
  
Crais had gone to make his own last-minute preparations by the time their contact commed in. Lt. Nameless, on reporting the incident, was forced to tell her Captain that the contact's instructions on identification were the rather cryptic 'Trust me, they'll know'. Crais had to admit to feeling a certain amount of apprehension as a result.  
  
He would have felt more apprehension had Marvio not failed to mention one tiny detail about their destination. Namely that, in the interests of secrecy, it was a pleasure planet. One famous, or perhaps notorious would be a better word, for dealing in the exotic. Weird and wonderful races, each with something extra special to recommend them. Naturally, it was absolutely out of bounds for Peacekeepers (although that wasn't to say that some of high enough rank didn't find their way there anyway) which meant that it was ideal for their purposes. The staff were very discreet.  
  
And their contact was quite right that they wouldn't have any trouble recognising her. She was, after all, the only Sebacean in permanent residence.  
  
Oh yes, and one other miniscule reason…  
  
***  
  
Crichton's mouth dropped open. "Cymma?!" he said.  
  
No, Crais thought to himself, the moment after his mind had produced the same thought, it was not Cymma. This woman was Sebacean. Her eyes were emerald green, but her hair was golden blond and there were no traces of feathers in it. Her face, however, was identical to Cymma's in every detail. Such a resemblance could not be coincidental.  
  
And at this moment she had a very suspicious expression on her face.  
  
"Cymma?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling exactly the same way that Cymma's had done. "Who is that?"  
  
Crais shook his head at Crichton. "No one," he said. "You are?"  
  
She looked from one man to the other warily. "My name is Eowyn Loth'Lorian, once of the Red Star regiment, now…freelance."  
  
"Red star?" Crichton mouthed to Crais.  
  
"Long range reconnaissance," Crais answered. Eowyn didn't look surprised at his apparently un-provoked response. He studied her closely. "The only Peacekeepers considered exempt from the laws of irreversible contamination. Specialists in undercover work." His eyes narrowed. "Spies."   
  
Eowyn stared right back, maintaining eye contact without blinking. "Your point?" she asked. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, not looking even slightly intimidated.  
  
"I doubt your loyalties," Crais said bluntly, taking a step towards her, instinctively squaring up for a fight.  
  
"Do you now?" Eowyn said sweetly, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "Well then, it's a shame that the decision to trust me isn't yours. Your commanding officer says I work for your side and all you can say is 'yes, sir'." She grinned at Crais. "Maddening, isn't it?"  
  
Crais bristled visibly.  
  
"I think she's psychic," Crichton remarked, the banter evidently raising his spirits enough to contribute to it. He grinned conspiratorially at Eowyn. "He hates taking orders," he said in a stage whisper.  
  
"Crichton!" Crais snapped, out of habit. Then, trying to recover command of the situation, "Commander Crichton, may I remind you who is in charge of this assignment?"  
  
Eowyn and Crichton exchanged a pair of positively maddening looks. If there was one thing above all that he could not stand, it was having people laugh at him.  
  
Eowyn evidently realised that if Crais' glare grew any more smouldering, he'd set fire to her rather fetching ensemble of blue gauze. "I'll locate Captain Braca for you," she said, her green eyes dancing merrily in amusement. "I believe he's still in the restorative chambers. In fact, I will take you there directly." Her face took on a distinctly evil grin. "I doubt he has had time to recover as yet."  
  
"Recover?" Crichton asked, looking as curious as Crais felt.  
  
Eowyn grinned still more wickedly. "There was a small…misunderstanding, over his purpose here," she said, her tone giving Crais the distinct impression that it had been anything but a mistake. "And he found himself offered the services of a Barytrate. Are you at all acquainted with the species?"  
  
Crichton looked blank. Crais suddenly found controlling laughter all but impossible as images flashed through his mind. He reined himself in with difficultly, clasping his hands behind his back. "To some degree," he said. "Although, I imagine…not as intimately as Captain Braca."  
  
"It seems he suffered quite a shock," Eowyn said. Crais strongly suspected that that was a considerable understatement. "So innocent," she added. "Well put together though. Once he's recovered…anyway, follow me and I will take you to him.  
  
***  
  
Crichton just looked at Crais. He had his arms crossed over his bare chest, his legs apart, trying to look as macho as is possible when one is only wearing a towel.  
  
"I hate whoever's idea this was," he said.  
  
Crais' strategic mind had already thrown up several dozen possibilities for disposing of the person in question, all of which he'd rejected as too quick and not sufficiently painful.  
  
He adjusted his own towel self-consciously. How was he expected to conduct official business in this attire? He didn't feel like a Captain without his uniform, at least not in this setting. His only comfort was that Crichton and Braca had to endure it too.  
  
"It was Kinsella, wasn't it?" Crichton demanded.  
  
"She believed it was the safest location."  
  
"Crap," Crichton said. "She just wants to torture me."  
  
Crais grunted. "Perhaps she should have accompanied us. They might have been able to improve her mood."  
  
Crichton laughed. With him, not at him. Had that ever happened before?  
  
Eowyn reappeared before Crais could decide the question. She gave each of them a slow, appraising look. Then she smiled. "Nice," she said. "I'm spoilt for choice. Unless you'd be interested in an group effort?"  
  
"No way in hell," Crichton said immediately. "Absolutely not," Crais stated, at the same time.  
  
"Shame. But I can live with one at a time."  
  
"I am not here for your amusement," Crais said darkly. "I am not interested."  
  
"And I'm engaged," Crichton said, as Eowyn's gaze shifted to him. Crais looked at him in surprise and Crichton caught the look. "Well…not exactly. I'm in a holding pattern. But hell, she moved in with me and we're having a baby. She's gotta say yes eventually."  
  
Eowyn turned raised eyebrows to Crais. "Are you also in a…holding pattern?" she enquired.  
  
For some unknown reason, a picture of Laynie Taan flashed up in front of Crais' eyes.  
  
"No," he said, shaking it away. "But I am here solely to complete this assignment."  
  
Eowyn regarded them impassively for a few microts. "You two are quite the dullest visitors I've ever had," she said. "But since I'm not convinced that it would be worth my while to help you relax, I'll take you to your meeting. Assuming that the good Captain has recovered his power of speech."  
  
She turned sharply, her long hair swishing across her back. Crais and Crichton, both quickly discovering that one cannot march in a towel without holding onto it firmly, unless one wishes said towel to succumb to gravity, followed her as she flounced out of the room.  
  
***  
  
Braca did indeed look a little shocked. Not to mention a little pale. Perhaps even a little sick. All in all, Crais was more than a little glad that he wasn't the one who had been the victim of the 'misunderstanding'.  
  
"Captain Braca," Crais greeted him, in his most authoritative manner, rather spoiling the effect by tugging at his towel again.  
  
"Captain Crais, Commander Crichton," Braca said. His voice was a little on the weak side and he didn't attempt to get up from the wooden bench he was sitting on. Crais and Crichton sat down opposite him on a similar bench, both looking - and feeling - rather less than comfortable.  
  
Braca eyed Crais with a sort of half-hearted curiosity. "I thought you were dead," he said, his tone suggesting that only half his brain recognised resurrection as being unusual.  
  
"Evidently not," Crais replied.  
  
Braca nodded slowly. "That's nice," he said. "Will you be dead again soon?"  
  
Crais blinked several times before he could find an answer to that one. "It is not my intention," he finally offered, wondering if Braca had sustained permanent damage.  
  
"That's nice," Braca said again, smiling wanly at Crais.  
  
Crais cleared his throat. "Captain…do you have information for us?" he prompted.  
  
"Information?" Braca said, his forehead furrowing in concentration. He appeared to be searching through his entire memory banks. "Oh yes," he said, after looking black for several microts. "I have an info-chip." He felt himself, as if searching for a pocket. A confused expression took over his features. "Where is my uniform?" he asked. "Where am I?"  
  
Crais raised his eyes to the ceiling. This was getting worse by the minute. Beside him, Crichton leaned forward. "Braca," he said, "what's your first name?"  
  
Braca looked still more confused, rather as if his translator microbes had stopped working. "I thought it was Captain," he said.  
  
Crais and Crichton turned to each other. "This is a waste of time," Crichton said. "Captain Concussion here," he jerked his head in Braca's direction, "isn't exactly a lot of help. I say we just get Eowyn to bring us his uniform. He must have an info-chip in one of his inside pockets."  
  
Crais barely had time to nod his agreement before the door opened and Braca's uniform came flying across the room, hitting Crais in the face.  
  
"How did she…?" Crichton began, staring at the door which had already closed again.  
  
Crais' expression had already darkened. "Red Stars," he cursed, his mouth tight with tension. "They hear everything."  
  
Crichton went to pull at his collar, forgetting that he didn't have one. "Maybe we shouldn't stick around too long," he said. "I don't want to end up like him anyway." He pointed to Braca, who was now humming quietly, a vacant smile on his face. "Are you sure he'll snap out of it? I think he's got post traumatic stress disorder."  
  
Crais was hunting through Braca's pockets. He had an astonishing number of them. "Ever the lieutenant," Crais muttered to himself. He finally located two small info-chips, which he held in his hand for want of somewhere else to put them. "We have what we came for," he said, standing up, hastily grabbing his towel as it attempted to part company from his person. "Or, even if we do not, we will do no better."  
  
Crichton stood also, folding his arms across his chest again. "How much d'you wanna bet that Cymma's voyeuristic doppelganger has already seen what's on those chips?"  
  
Crais sighed. "A great deal."  
  
"But there's not much we can do about that?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Except kill her."  
  
Crais grunted. "She is Red Star. They are all but indestructible."  
  
"We could take her with us."  
  
"And expose the entire resistance to her scrutiny?"  
  
"Good point."  
  
Crais shot another look at Braca. "At least we can be certain that he will not follow us," he said. "We will have to trust that Captain Kinsella and Captain Marvio are correct in their assessment of her."  
  
Crichton laughed. "I can't believe you're telling me to be more trusting," he said.  
  
Crais paused, frowning. "Indeed," he said. "It is most unusual."  
  
"The beginning of a beautiful friendship?"  
  
"I doubt that very much."  
  
"Yeah. Me too."  
  
***  
  
Crais sat in command on the marauder, trying to block out Crichton's humming. After switching several times, he'd settled on a tune and had hummed, whistled and beat it out on his console for the last four arns. He hadn't even had the courtesy to do it consistently so that Crais could accustom himself to it. Crais was about a hundred microts away from demoting him. Or possibly introducing him to the vacuum of space.  
  
In an attempt to occupy himself, he entered the personnel section of the ship's databank. One of the impressive accomplishments by resistance members was compression technology far beyond what the Peacekeepers had achieved. Even this marauder could store astonishing amounts of information, all so heavily encrypted and booby-trapped that without clearance one had no hope of accessing it. Add to that Captain Kinsella's abilities as Head of Intelligence and you had an extremely powerful combination. The Peacekeepers had no idea how many of their files were copied. And among those that were, was the entire personnel database. Every Peacekeeper - past and present. Crais was still not sure why this had been a priority, but he was glad of it now.  
  
He performed a search for Eowyn Loth'Lorian and was instantly rewarded. Eowyn's face, distinctly grimmer in this picture, looked back at him.  
  
His eyes scrolled down the information beside and below it. Eowyn Loth'Lorian, he read. Red Star - deserted. Location: Maros 1, Halothian Spa. Father's name: Likos Loth'Lorian. Mother's name: not known.  
  
Not known meant not a Peacekeeper, surely. Although family bonds were disregarded, genetic ones were not. High Command did not want in-breeding. A child conceived unknowingly by close relations would be terminated. Even conscripts had their parents' names and genetic samples on file. That her mother was unknown must make her almost unique.  
  
"I'm half-Sebacean. Guess what my mother was ex-communicated for?" Cymma's voice echoed in his head.  
  
Could they be sisters? Or, more accurately, twins? But how had Eowyn altered her appearance? Why had Cymma not done the same? And how had Eowyn escaped scanning as part non-Sebacean?  
  
Crais shook his head and leant back in his chair. He hated unsolved mysteries, but he suspected he might never know the answers to those questions.  
  
***  
  
Crais marched along the corridor, heading for Marvio's office. He passed an intersection, caught a glimpse of blond hair and Laynie Taan appeared at his side, matching his pace and direction.  
  
"Since you're not chained up in Kinsella's dungeon, I take it the mission went well?" she said, eyes straight ahead.  
  
Crais glanced sideways at her, but she didn't look at him. "Indeed," he answered.  
  
"You meet Eowyn?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow. She still didn't alter her focus. "I did."  
  
"Did she proposition you?"  
  
The eyebrow crept further towards his hairline. "Is that usual?" he asked.  
  
"For her, yes. She was notorious for it as a Peacekeeper. She recreated with half the crew."  
  
"Indeed?"  
  
"Did she proposition the others too?"  
  
"She did."  
  
"Group effort?"  
  
"It was mentioned."  
  
Laynie chuckled. "She hasn't changed. I miss her."  
  
"You served with her?" Crais asked, stealing another look at her.  
  
"We were great friends. Compared to her, I always felt like a model of chastity."  
  
Crais' mind raced, trying to decide if she was implying what he thought she was.  
  
"The answers to your questions are; yes, no, no, yes. In that order."  
  
Before Crais could process that, or wonder how she knew what his questions were, they came to another intersection and Laynie vanished.  
  
It took considerable self-control not to turn around and follow her, but Crais forced himself to keep walking. He had decided he would not recreate with her and he would stick to that decision. Somehow.  
  
Nevertheless, his mind went along with her while his body kept going and he arrived at his destination much sooner than he expected. He knocked on the door.  
  
"Enter."  
  
Crais opened the door, stepped in and closed it behind him. Then he faced Marvio and Kinsella at the desk. He barely had time to take one step towards them before there was another knock on the door.  
  
"Enter," Marvio repeated.  
  
Crichton slipped in quietly, looking apologetically at Marvio. "Sorry I'm late," he said. Then he spotted Kinsella and jumped, immediately standing to attention. She regarded him coldly and Marvio looked amused at the Commander's nervousness.  
  
"We have here," Kinsella said. "The info-chips we were provided with." She placed one into the slot in the small projector mounted on the desk. "Observe."  
  
As the images began, both men at first looked confused. Then recognition dawned. Their expressions changed to horror, then morbid fascination. Then, as if someone had activated a switch, both of them slowly tilted their heads to the right, their eyes glued on the projection. Suddenly both recoiled, averting their eyes. "Oh, Jesus," Crichton said. Crais' exclamation was unintelligible.  
  
"Naturally we are not blaming either of you," Marvio said calmly. "This has a style I have learned to identify. I hope the Captain recovers speedily. It is the other information-chip that interests us."  
  
He removed the first one from the projector and entered the second. This displayed a mass of data.  
  
"Grayza's plans, locations and contacts, to the best of Captain Braca's knowledge," Marvio said, meeting Crais and Crichton's eyes in turn. "Assuming this is accurate, the Commandant will be meeting with the Scarran First Minister and Emperor in three solar days on the space station in the Charis system. It is an ideal opportunity."  
  
"To kill three big, ugly birds with one small explosion," Crichton finished.  
  
"Precisely," Marvio said, as Crais raised an eyebrow at Crichton. "And before you ask, I am granting you permission to be part of this mission." A smile tugged at his lips. "I hear you have some experience in blowing things up."  
  
But not always deliberately, Crais thought to himself, biting back a smile.  
  
"Unless Captain Kinsella objects to this?" Marvio said, turning his head to look questioningly at her.  
  
Kinsella glanced at Crichton appraisingly. "On balance, Captain," she said. "I feel the department will not grind to a halt without Commander Crichton's…contribution."  
  
Crais was forced to studiously avoid looking at Crichton's expression.  
  
"Crais," Marvio said, now turning to him. "Do you recall the location I mentioned?"  
  
"I do," Crais replied, meeting Marvio's gaze.  
  
"Good," Marvio said, maintaining eye contact. "Then you have command." He turned back to Crichton. "Commander," he said. "Do you have need of a delay again?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
Marvio acknowledged that with a single nod. "The rest of your team will meet you on board. Good fortune. Dismissed."  
  
***  
  
The Charis system.  
  
It was a place Crais hadn't thought of in cycles. Had tried not to, in all honesty. Even at the time, forty-three cycles ago, it had thrown up too many questions. Questions are dangerous for a Peacekeeper.  
  
Crais sat up and folded the covers at the end of his bed, then lay back and tried to get to sleep without them smothering him. Half an hour more and he'd give up and get up.  
  
He'd become so much more sensitive to sound over the last few cycles. First Talyn's sounds after the mechanical whirring of his command carrier, cycles and cycles of life-less lodgings. Then his new quarters, too quiet at night, but filled by the twittering of birds in the early morning, a sound that either relaxed or infuriated Crais, depending on his mood on waking. Likely, in time, that sound would become part of the background too. Here, there was whirring again, but the rhythm was wrong.  
  
The ship was compact and innocent-looking, but deadly. A class unique to the resistance and known as an astra. Crichton had made a quip about not knowing that Vauxhall made space-ships, whatever that meant. It impressed Crais, as did the crew. He wondered idly if the Peacekeepers were aware that the best of the best had found their way here.  
  
Looking back, he shouldn't have been surprised that Marvio had been the founder of the resistance. The model of a Peacekeeper on the outside, but there had always been…something. An extra spark, if you will. A flash of an inner spirit that most Peacekeepers didn't have. And Marvio hadn't even had the advantage - as Crais was finally coming to consider it - of experiencing life outside the Peacekeepers. He wasn't a conscript, he'd never known either of his parents, he should have been pulse-fodder. A mind-less instrument of High Command at best. And yet, he hadn't been. What was it that had made the difference?  
  
He shouldn't waste half an arn wondering when he could spend it working. He pulled himself out of bed, pulled his uniform on and briefly toyed with the idea of seeing if there was anyone else awake. If he recreated with someone, he might just be able to get some sleep. The teasing conversations he'd shared with Laynie were certainly not reducing his tension levels. The crew was small though, and he'd seen no one who really appealed. Not that that should matter for fluid-reduction purposes.  
  
He walked to his desk, pulling up the station plan once again. He'd studied it for so long he could have drawn it from memory. The mission was simple. Plant a device codenamed a basket bomb into the main power grid. Shut down the grid and the bomb would explode as soon as it was powered up again. Easy.  
  
Crais had enquired why exactly it was called a basket bomb. The answer had been just as simple. You needed a basket to carry the remains of your target. It would destroy the whole station…and anyone unfortunate enough to be there.  
  
Simple, clean, efficient. All Kinsella's trademarks. Crais was quickly learning that she was, in many ways, the power behind the throne. Marvio was the dreamer, the hub of ideas. He admitted his weaknesses and had everyone on his staff playing to their strengths. Which was why his resistance was quite so successful.  
  
And it was successful. Crais had already discovered that many of the 'accidents' he'd heard about as a Peacekeeper had been nothing of the kind. That too, was a trademark. As Marvio frequently said, the perfect crime is one that no one knows has been committed.  
  
His first night at Val'halla, he'd discovered just how good they were. And how much he owed them. It wasn't chance that had thrown him and Talyn into a wormhole when their starburst had destroyed the command carrier. It wasn't good fortune that had saved both their lives. A resistance agent on the command carrier had made several minor, but all-important, modifications which had ensured their survival, although their destination could not be predicted. That agent was, in part, responsible for everything that Crais would do to serve the resistance.  
  
And that agent, he'd discovered to his utter astonishment, was Lt. Darinta Larell.  
  
***  
  
"I spy with my little eye, one ugly Scarran space-ship," Crichton said triumphantly, as the astra slid neatly into dock. Crais experienced an unfamiliar rush of apprehension. It was, after all, his first real mission as a member of the resistance. He didn't want to think about the possibility of failure.  
  
He took a deep breath, wiped all signs of uncertainty from his face and rose. "You know your assignments," he said, addressing the group of assignment-heads who had gathered in command as they'd arrived. "Assemble your teams and disembark. Remember your instruction."  
  
Instruction. Code name for warning.  
  
"Instruction?" Crichton murmured into Crais' ear, as he stood beside him watching everyone file out. "I didn't get any instruction."  
  
"The rule is simple," Crais said, moving his mouth the minimum possible. "Touch everything."  
  
He could feel Crichton's confusion. "Don't you mean 'touch nothing'?" Crichton asked.  
  
"No," Crais said definitely. "Touch everything. All will become clear."  
  
"Don't you start on the cryptic clues," Crichton muttered mutinously. "I hate cryptic clues."  
  
Crais ignored him and led the way out of command, leaving only their pilot, security officer and one technician there. Protocol demanded that Crais should remain out of harm's way. Crais demanded otherwise.  
  
"You're really not going to tell me what I'm getting into, are you?" Crichton said, at the very least keeping his voice low as they marched along the corridor.  
  
"I have told you everything you need to know," Crais answered, eyes fixed straight ahead.  
  
"You told me nothing. You just said to touch everything."  
  
"Which is everything you need to know," Crais said firmly, his ventriloquism quite impressive.  
  
  
  
Crichton rolled his eyes audibly.  
  
Security appeared lax, but Crais knew quite well that that was an illusion. The walls had eyes. Almost literally in fact.  
  
Descending from the ship unaccompanied, Crais strode across the anti-chamber towards the main entrance to the station. At the last moment, Crichton dodged in front of him. "I'm not moving until you explain what we're getting into," he said, folding his arms.  
  
Crais sighed in exasperation. "Crichton, this behaviour is unacceptable and must cease. When your commanding officer tells you that you have sufficient information, you have sufficient information!"  
  
Crichton held up his hands. "Your call," he said. "I'm in no hurry."  
  
He leant back against the airlock door. And fell through it.  
  
"What the f…?!" he exclaimed, as his knee caps scraped painfully on the ridged metal of the floor on the other side.  
  
Crais stepped neatly through the projection and stood, arms crossed, looking down at Crichton smugly. "As I said," he said. "Touch everything. Before you lean on it."  
  
Crichton gave him a look that might have been intimidating, had their positions been reversed. "You didn't mention that last bit," he said, his mouth tight with tension.  
  
"I do apologise," Crais said, the corners of his mouth quirking up. "A slight omission on my part."  
  
"Slight?!" Crichton exclaimed, picking himself up. "That is not slight! That is the most important bit!"  
  
"No, the most important part is the mission we are here to accomplish," Crais replied, leaving his amusement aside for the moment. "Which we must attend to immediately. Follow me."  
  
***  
  
"So let me get this straight," Crichton whispered, as they slowly climbed a very steep staircase that was making his knees start an impassioned campaign for physiotherapy. "This whole place is one giant booby-trap?"  
  
"Correct," Crais said, paying close attention to where he was stepping. "Some of the station is solid and some is holographic. The only way to be sure is to touch it. This is one place where you cannot trust anything."  
  
"Where are all the people?" Crichton said, still whispering, as he carefully followed in Crais' footsteps. If he was going to plunge to his death, he'd prefer it to be whilst doing something more heroic than butt-shaping exercises.  
  
"We may encounter a hologram or two. They are all part of the projection. Shut down the power grid and they will disappear as well."  
  
"And Grayza knows this?" Crichton said, raising his voice to normal volume. "And the Scarrans?"  
  
"Unlikely," Crais replied. "That the station is partially holographic cannot be hidden, that the personnel are, is. Which gives us an advantage."  
  
Crichton whistled long and low, slowly running his hand along the handrail beside him, careful not to put any weight on it. His hand slid along smooth metal and then dropped through pure light.  
  
"So the only people here are resistance crew and Grayza's team? There's absolutely no-one else?" he asked.  
  
"There are no food supplies here, no water. No creature would be able to survive here unless they had no need of those things. And such beings are few and far between."  
  
"How does the station run?" Crichton asked, staring upwards, trying to see the top of the staircase.  
  
"Solar energy."  
  
"But who maintains the machines?" Crichton protested. "If they shut down, the whole place would go under."  
  
"The hologramatic personnel are capable of using them. They are solid unless we pass through them, like the rest of the station."  
  
"Hard light holograms," Crichton muttered to himself. "Was it Star Trek, or was it Red Dwarf? It's weird, whoever did it first."  
  
"We are here," Crais said, as they reached a door leading off one of the small platforms on the stairs.  
  
Crichton stared at it. "Where's here, exactly?"  
  
"That information is classified," Crais answered.  
  
Crichton waited until Crais' back was turned and then made a strangling motion behind his back.  
  
***  
  
Crais put a hand out to feel the door before he walked through it. Such things unnerved him intensely. He was accustomed to people conspiring against him, but not inanimate objects.  
  
"At least tell me what we're looking for," Crichton insisted from behind him. "We shouldn't even be here. We have teams to set the bomb and wipe the surveillance records. Why in all hezmana are we sneaking around up here?"  
  
"We have a special assignment," Crais replied, keeping his own voice low, wondering where to go next. Where might she be?  
  
"To do what?!" Crichton repeated, obviously frustrated by the lack of information he was getting. "I don't know what I'm doing here, Crais and I think that I have a right to know."  
  
"We are here to ensure that the plan is a success," Crais answered.  
  
"How?"  
  
Crais sighed in exasperation. "By finding Grayza!"  
  
"Hold the phone. We're not sure if she's even here?"  
  
"It is only wise to verify the fact."  
  
Crichton shook his head. "Don't let Captain Kruger hear you question her long-range recon skills. I know she doesn't hate you as much as she hates me, but even so."  
  
Crais led the way through another door, this one needing to be opened before they could get through it and then closed his eyes, trying to connect the plan he had memorised with the room in front of them.  
  
"Up," he said, indicating a crystalline formation that was doubling as a ladder.  
  
"Wonderful idea," Crichton said sarcastically. "Another chance for us to plunge to our deaths without warning."  
  
Nevertheless, he started climbing after Crais.  
  
"Kinsella does not hate you," Crais remarked, as they climbed slowly up and up.  
  
"Could have fooled me," Crichton muttered.  
  
"She merely hates incompetence," Crais explained.  
  
Crichton stopped climbing momentarily. "That makes me feel so much better," he said, before carrying on.  
  
Crais smiled to himself, glad that Crichton could not see his face. "Prove yourself to her and she will become a formidably ally," he said, unwittingly repeating the words that Marvio had said to him. "Fail to do so and you will find yourself blocked at every turn. Do not attempt to fight this. Stronger than you have tried and failed."  
  
"How comforting," Crichton's voice said from beneath him.  
  
Crais reached the next level and climbed out onto it, immediately striding forward, arms outstretched as if he was blind. He felt foolish, but it was necessary.   
  
He passed through the door as Crichton scrambled up behind him. Just as he'd expected, he found the panel he'd been looking for. He removed a chip from his pocket, inserted it into the slot and punched in the code. The system wirred into life.  
  
Crichton came stumbling through the door.  
  
"Scarran hunting?" he asked.  
  
"Indeed," Crais said. "I am attempting to discover where they are."  
  
The system stopped wirring. Crais looked carefully at the read-outs and closed his eyes. "Or, in fact," he said slowly. "If they are."  
  
Crichton stared at him. "You're telling me that Grayza isn't here?" he asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So we can't kill her?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"So we really screwed up?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Crichton whistled. "Oh, man," he said.  
  
Crais pulled the chip from the slot with rather more force than was strictly necessary.  
  
Suddenly, Crichton started to laugh.  
  
"What?!" Crais snapped at him, not in the mood for this.  
  
"I was just realising the upside of not being in command," Crichton said. "This is all your fault, not mine."  
  
Crais didn't answer. He couldn't. Instead he hit his communicator. "Abandon," he said simply. "Repeat. Abandon."  
  
The message would reach everyone on the station. They had to return to the ship.  
  
Failure was no longer a possibility. It was fact. 


	5. Together

Part 5: Together  
  
"I hear that things didn't go too well."  
  
Crais was sitting at the top of Sunset peak, looking at the sight it had been named after. The knarled log underneath him was not the most comfortable seat he had ever sat on, but he'd been here for an arn anyway. A matter of denches in front of him, the hillside cascaded away into the huge valley below. He could see for metras.  
  
"What brings you here?" he asked, in a resigned tone.  
  
Laynie settled herself down next to him, her cheeks flushed from the climb. Crais himself had charged up the steep path in a fury, finding it strangely therapeutic. He'd only found it by accident and he'd rather hoped that he wouldn't be disturbed.  
  
"It's a beautiful sight," Laynie said, not answering him as her gaze swept over the valley below them. "I never get tired of it. The land where I came from was very flat. I would have imagined that this hill was a mountain before I left to go to the city."  
  
"I recall a similar place to this where I was raised," Crais answered, returning his gaze to the horizon. "My father often took me there."  
  
"No doubt when he needed to calm you," Laynie answered, following Crais' gaze.  
  
Crais grunted. "Do you have a purpose here, or not?" he asked.  
  
"I always have a purpose, even if it is only to enjoy myself," Laynie said, looking sideways at him.  
  
Crais looked sideways back at her. "And what is it now?" he asked, wondering why he wasn't getting irritated at her skirting around.  
  
"I came to see if you were all right," Laynie said.  
  
Of all the responses she could have given, that was the one Crais found hardest to respond to.  
  
"Why?" he asked finally, having rejected all other possible answers.  
  
"I don't know," Laynie said mildly. "It just seemed like the right thing to do."  
  
"I am fine," Crais told her. If he hadn't been before, he was now. It was most strange.  
  
"Good," Laynie said.  
  
She returned to staring out into the valley. Crais caught himself wondering what would happen if he were to turn her face to his and kiss her. But he couldn't risk finding out.  
  
"It happens, don't dwell on it," Laynie said suddenly. "I've there's one lesson I've learned, it's that. Forget yesterday and begin afresh today. This isn't the Peacekeepers, no one will execute you for an error beyond your control."  
  
"There are worse things than being executed," Crais responded immediately.  
  
"Indeed there are," Laynie said. "Such as giving up."  
  
"I mentioned nothing about giving up," Crais shot back.  
  
"Of course not," Laynie said. "I never said you did."  
  
"I will not let one failure deter me," Crais said passionately.  
  
"I never imagined you would," Laynie said composedly.  
  
Crais stared at her, standing up and pacing over to the tree that topped the peak. A few microts ago he'd been depressed and now he was charged with determination. Had she done that, or had he?  
  
"What is your relationship with Marvio?" he demanded.   
  
It couldn't honestly be called a question from thin air, since it had taken up permanent residence at the divide between Crais' conscious and sub-conscious. Even so, he'd expected her to seem more surprised.  
  
"Doctor and Captain, and friends," was her answer.  
  
"And more?" Crais asked, knowing he had no right to expect a response.  
  
"No," Laynie said, no trace of hesitation or awkwardness.  
  
"Were you?" Crais asked, even more bluntly, half wondering how long she would allow the interrogation to continue.  
  
That made Laynie hesitate, very briefly. "It depends on your definition of more," she said slowly. "He does not, and has never, loved me as anything other than a friend and I share those feelings. But if your question is whether or not we have ever recreated, the answer is yes."  
  
Crais felt a sudden, primordial urge to kill his former mentor.  
  
"Not recently," Laynie continued. "But when we first arrived here, for a time. We both agreed to end that."  
  
"Why?" Crais asked, needing to know even though he didn't want to hear.  
  
"Because Marvio knew that I wanted ultimately to raise a family, and we both knew that I didn't want to do that with him." Laynie stopped looking at Crais and stared out over the valley again. "He's not the one I want to share my life with."  
  
Who is? Crais wanted to ask, but that question stuck in his throat.  
  
"One thing to be said for life in the Peacekeepers," Laynie said, looking at him again and smiling. "Outlawing relationships makes things a lot less complicated. Not that I don't think the complications are worth it - for the right person."  
  
"Complications can be the difference between life and death," Crais said, avoiding her eyes as he ran his fingers over the bark of the tree.  
  
"A raindrop can be the difference between life and death," Laynie said bluntly. "You can't avoid death by not living."  
  
"You do not really believe that a person only lives if they live with someone else?"  
  
"No," Laynie said. "I think a person who wants to live with someone else, only lives if they live with someone else."  
  
"Perhaps I do not wish to," Crais said, leaning back against the tree and folding his arms.  
  
"I never said you did," Laynie replied. "I believe we were talking about me. And some other hypothetical people."  
  
Crais went to answer, or at least try to, and found himself sneezing violently instead. Laynie looked surprised. "It's been less than a weeken since I examined you, it doesn't speak much for my skills that you are ill already," she said.  
  
"I am not..." was all Crais managed before he sneezed again. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose.  
  
"You were saying?" Laynie said, looking amused.  
  
"I am not ill," Crais said firmly, replacing it. "I do not need medical attention for a few sneezes."  
  
"Nevertheless," Laynie said, standing up and approaching him. "I'd like to..."  
  
"No!" Crais said, a little more forcefully than he'd intended. He mellowed his voice. "I thank for your concern, but I am in perfect health. If that changes, I will report to you."  
  
Laynie gave what sounded like a cough, although Crais was sure it had started life as a snort. "It's almost dark," she said, looking around. "We should head back. It's hard to find your way down in the dark. There's always the risk we'll get lost if we stay here much longer."  
  
Crais couldn't have put it better himself.  
  
"Very well," he said slowly, moving to join her. "We will go together."  
  
**  
  
"Why is it," Crichton asked, as he and Crais strode along the corridor towards Marvio's office, "that Kinsella tries to demote me every time I make a raslak-ring on the console top, but turns a blind eye to a total screw up like this?"  
  
Crais ignored him.  
  
"It just plain isn't fair," Crichton moaned.  
  
"Life is not fair," Crais said succinctly, as they came to a halt outside the door. He knocked and they entered at Marvio's command.  
  
"A slight alteration to the plan," Marvio said, without preamble, as Crais and Crichton came to stand before him. "I have received a transmission from Lt. Loth'Lorian. It seems that Captain Braca contacted her, advising her of it, but we did not receive the communication in time. Unfortunate, but not disastrous. And we have alternative co-ordinates."  
  
"Same as before?" Crichton asked, looking more confident without Kinsella breathing down his neck.  
  
"Not precisely," Marvio answered, sifting through a case of info-chips. "Lt. Loth'Lorian will accompany you this time. The mission requires you to infiltrate a highly-populated station, which will take high-level covert operations skills - the kind the Lieutenant excels at."  
  
"Red star training can be invaluable," Crais grudgingly admitted.  
  
"Indeed," Marvio answered, locating the chip he was looking for and handing it to Crais. "Lt. Loth'Lorian will be arriving within the next arn. I am also sending Lt. Essan with you. Her combat skills are second to none. As for the final member of your team, I am being forced to break with established protocol, because this mission requires more than strategic thinking."  
  
"Who?" Crichton asked, just as Crais realised he knew instinctively who Marvio meant.  
  
**  
  
"Grayza's heppel gland won't continue to function on its own," Laynie said, pacing in front of the group as she took care of her part of the briefing. "It's not designed for Sebaceans to use. In order for it to produce the hormones she relies on, it must be stimulated by a substance called Kerelin. That is not naturally occurring in Sebaceans either. Grayza has an artificial implant in the back of her neck which releases Kerelin, but it must be replaced every cycle. She is due for a check-up." Laynie smiled wickedly, making Crais clear his throat and shift in his seat. "And my oath as a doctor will not allow me to subject her to inferior care."  
  
"So you're going to pull it?" Crichton asked, his arm draped over his up-pulled leg. "Bye bye birdy?"  
  
Laynie shook her head. "That is not the plan," she said.  
  
"It should be," Eowyn said, unfolding her long legs from the lotus position she was sitting in and standing. "Kill the root and the plant dies."  
  
"I have my orders, there will be nothing so direct" Laynie said, as Eowyn came to stand beside her. They made a striking pair. Objectively, Eowyn was by far the more beautiful, but Crais was quickly discovering how much beauty was in the eye of the beholder.  
  
"I remember a time," Eowyn said, putting an arm around Laynie's shoulders, "when you didn't always follow orders."  
  
Laynie looked sideways at her. "I can't remember a time when you ever did. At least not when you could get away without it."  
  
"So what is the plan?" Lt. Essan asked.  
  
"A slight modification to the implant," Laynie replied, leaning against the console behind her as Eowyn restlessly wandered round command. "We cannot remove it, because that could be detected. We cannot stop production, because that would be detected. What I intend to do is alter the enzymes being released so that they cannot perform the function they are designed to. The heppel gland will no longer be stimulated and production of the hormones will stop."  
  
"Which gets us where, precisely?" Crichton asked. "Immunity from her charms won't fix up the Scarran problem."  
  
"Her body is dependent upon the hormones," Crais answered, before he realised he knew. "Remove them and it will slowly cease to function. This will, indirectly, kill her."  
  
Laynie gave Crais a warm smile. He cleared his throat again.  
  
"This is an assassination squad now?" Crichton asked.  
  
"The resistance is one big assassination squad," Eowyn said, turning from the viewscreen where she had stopped her pacing. "The greater good often requires the lesser bad to be done. And that is your job now. To do what others will not."  
  
"News flash," Crichton said. "That's been my life for the last three cycles. This is no big step up - or down."  
  
"I can make the alteration, with Eowyn and Lt. Essan to back me up," Laynie said.  
  
She was nervous, Crais realised. A conscript member of the medical corps - likely she hadn't left ship duty in all her time as a Peacekeeper.  
  
"Crichton and I should accompany you," he said.  
  
Laynie shook her head, as Eowyn rolled her eyes. "First rule of surveillance," Eowyn said, as if they were still cadets. "Don't attempt to fool someone who knows you. At least not with your pathetic training."  
  
Crais opened his mouth to retort, when he saw Laynie shake her head at him. Automatically, he shut it again.  
  
"We're in the back seat this time, huh?" Crichton said, glancing at Crais. "I guess we're on probation."  
  
"No officer is ever off probation," Lt. Essan remarked. She didn't seem to consider Crichton a superior.  
  
"Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine," Crichton muttered.  
  
"Our meeting will be at the Teranis medical centre in fifteen arns," Crais said, confirming what his team already knew. "In the meantime, I suggest you all get some rest."  
  
Lt. Essan nodded smartly, said 'yes, sir' and departed, back straight, reminding Crais strongly of Captain Braca. Crichton loafed out, Eowyn following closely behind. Crais saw Crichton jump as Eowyn pinched his backside and fought hard to suppress a smile.  
  
"Aren't you going to rest too?" Laynie asked, moving over to stand beside him.  
  
"One of us should remain on watch," Crais replied.  
  
"Not the Captain."  
  
"My part here is the least essential."  
  
"No part here is unessential," Laynie said softly. "But I won't debate that with you. I just want you to do one thing for me, before I turn in."  
  
"And what might that be?" Crais asked, trying to keep his imagination from roaming.  
  
Laynie produced a small device from her pocket and placed it under his nose. "Breathe in through your nose," she said.  
  
It wasn't exactly what Crais had expected. "Why?" he asked.  
  
"Just do it," Laynie said, smiling. "It's nothing bad, I promise."  
  
Warily, Crais did as she asked. And sneezed violently.  
  
"Thought so," Laynie said, pocketing the device again. "It's a simple allergy."  
  
"To what?" Crais asked, producing a tissue and blowing his nose resentfully.  
  
"Pollen," Laynie said. "You have hayfever. I suppose it didn't show up when you were younger and you probably didn't notice it on board ship. Nothing serious, I'll put you on injections when we get back."  
  
Crais tugged at his collar. "That will not be necessary," he said.  
  
Laynie sat down next to Crais. Their thighs were touching. He tried and failed not to notice.  
  
"Don't tell me you're afraid of needles?" she said.  
  
"Certainly not," Crais said, immediately. "I merely prefer...that is..."  
  
Laynie laughed and gave Crais a look of pure affection. The kind he'd been starved of most of his life. To his surprise - and perhaps her own - she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Crais turned and stared at her, not knowing what to do.  
  
"I'm sure I can find another solution," she said, getting up and heading out of command.  
  
Crais watched her leave, longing to follow. He was beginning to suspect that complications were far more difficult to avoid than he'd imagined.  
  
**  
  
Crais was pacing up and down in command enough to make Crichton wish he'd packed Farscape 1 with dramamine tablets. Why he was so nervous, Crichton couldn't fathom. It was a simple away mission, Crais must have commander stacks of them. Eowyn, Laynie and Essan all had last names and none of them were wearing red. They were perfectly safe.  
  
"It was foolish to allow her to go with so little security," Crichton heard Crais mutter. "I should be there."  
  
"Who?" Crichton asked, curiously.  
  
"What?" Crais said, looking round distractedly, like he hadn't realised Crichton was still there.  
  
"You said it was foolish to allow her to go with so little security," Crichton said, leaning forward as his brain latched onto the idea. "Who?"  
  
"I meant them," Crais said. Crichton could've sworn he was blushing.  
  
Crichton folded his arms across as his chest as he regarded Crais, no longer bored with waiting. "Really?" he asked.  
  
"It was a simple mistake," Crais snapped, resuming his pacing. "Why must you jump to conclusions?"  
  
Crichton held up his hands in surrender. Methinks the Captain doth protest too much, he thought delightedly. It was obvious really, he couldn't believe he hadn't realised it sooner.  
  
Crais totally had a thing for Eowyn.  
  
**  
  
Laynie Taan set the implant in Grayza's neck carefully and straightened up. Mission accomplished. She glanced at Lt. Essan, who looked all wrong dressed as one of the station's med-techs, and nodded.  
  
"A complete success," she announced. "Nurse, if you would take our patient to the recovery room?"  
  
Lt. Essan played her role admirably, revealing acting talent Laynie hadn't expected her to have. Laynie retired to the clean room and changed out of her scrubs and into the uniform of the medical staff, trying to relax the muscles of her stomach. The operation had been the easy part. Eowyn considered vid-editing child's play and the door controls were jammed utterly unless you knew her newly-programmed combination. Now they just had to melt into the background and escape.  
  
She unlocked the door as Lt. Essan returned and the two of them headed down the corridor, having to walk slower than Laynie would have liked to keep up appearances. They passed through corridor after corridor, relying on their mental maps and nothing else. At the third intersection, Eowyn joined them.  
  
"Go by corridor six, section two," she muttered, before disappearing down another corridor, as if she didn't know them.  
  
Laynie knew not to ask why. She and Essan carried on until they reached that location and had almost turned the corner when they both froze.  
  
"Standard security search, Captain. You understand," came a voice from around it.  
  
In a flash, Essan yanked off a wall panel and she and Laynie practically dived inside. They were unregistered visitors in a place where everyone was scanned on arrival. If they were caught, the whole mission would be in jeopardy.   
  
They started crawling down the tunnel until they could drop into another corridor. Laynie searched her memory, focusing hard on the plan she'd memorised and realised they were in corridor four, section three.  
  
"Third on the right," she said quietly to Essan. "It only adds a few hundred microts to the journey."  
  
Essan nodded and they carried on together.  
  
Laynie's stomach muscles clenched tighter and tighter. If Eowyn gave an order, there was good reason for it. And if they didn't make it back... She was beginning to question her own bravery.  
  
Her pace quickened as they walked and she had to fight the temptation to break into a run. Something was going to happen, she could feel it. Something was going to...  
  
The conduit blew open as she passed it, a cloud of blue smoke enveloped her and the world crumbled into ashes.  
  
**  
  
Crais stared out of the viewscreen, resolutely avoiding Crichton's gaze. One little word, that had absolutely meant nothing, and now he would probably never hear the last of it. Of course he had meant 'them'. He had no reason to care for one above the others.  
  
A sudden beep came from one of the consoles, telling Crais and Crichton that the others had returned. A moment later, Eowyn's voice came through the comms. "Go now!" she panted. "Five hundred microts to detonation."  
  
"Detonation?!" Crichton exclaimed.  
  
Crais' brain was fortunately well enough trained not to pause for that thought. He broke the docking connections immediately and had them at a safe distance in half that time.  
  
"What frelling deto...?" Crichton started to ask.  
  
Teranis station imploded in a microt, leaving nothing but a small field of floating debris.  
  
"...nation," Crichton finished.  
  
Crais stared at the viewscreen. This had not been part of the plan. At least, not to his knowledge.  
  
"Lt. Loth'Lorian," he said tightly, slapping his comms. "Report to command and explain."  
  
"Later. We're in medical."  
  
Crais' insides turned to ice.  
  
"Laynie's hurt."  
  
**  
  
"She needs serious help. Head-quarters is too far. The closest place is..."  
  
"The Charis system," Crais said.  
  
Eowyn glanced at him. "What use are a bunch of holograms?" she said. "She has radiation poisoning. She needs medical help."  
  
"You were the one who blew up Teranis station!" Crais snapped. "There is a medical program built into the systems at Charis. Those holograms can help her. We do not have time to travel anywhere else!"  
  
"Save the debriefing for later," Eowyn snapped back. She hit her comms. "Charis system, as fast as we can go."  
  
Crais looked at Laynie, unconscious on the medi-bed and tried not to think about the possibility of her dying. "What effect will this have on her?" he asked, trying to keep his tone professional.  
  
"Worst, death," Eowyn said flatly. "If we can't reverse the damage soon. Even if we get her help, this dose will cause permanent damage. Sterility, for one thing."  
  
"She wishes to raise a family," Crais said, not even considering how odd a comment that was for him to make.  
  
Eowyn raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, well, she'll be frelling lucky if she can do that now." Her eyes narrowed. "No matter who she's recreating with."  
  
Crais ignored that comment, afraid of giving himself away.  
  
"What can you do for her in the mean time?" he asked.  
  
"Field treatments. Won't be enough. Keep her alive for a few arns, but nothing else."  
  
Crais knew he was capable of administering those himself. He could offer to be the one who stayed with her. But what reason could he give for doing so?  
  
"I will be in command," he said instead. And made himself walk out.  
  
**  
  
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the hologramatic doctor said, as soon as Crais activated the subroutine to bring him on line.  
  
"Radiation poisoning," Eowyn said, without missing a beat. Crais had to admit that he couldn't fault her reactions. "Fix it."  
  
The doctor managed to look disdainfully at her and immediately spring into action, as Crichton carried Laynie to the medi-bed and laid her down on it.  
  
"Out," he said, without preamble. "I must have freedom from interruption."  
  
Crais, Crichton and Eowyn reluctantly complied. At the door, Eowyn turned back. "You don't fix her, and I scramble your program so bad you'll never scowl again," she declared, before Crichton pulled her out of the door.  
  
Crais was having to work so hard to stop himself looking worried that the muscles in his face were aching with the strain. "I have business to take care of," he lied. "Return to the ship and help Lt. Essan finish the log entries."  
  
"I'm staying," Eowyn declared. "I'm a mercenary, not one of your lap dogs."  
  
Crais wanted to punch her. Now was not the time. "Very well, go where you will," he said, not in the mood to argue about respect for rank.  
  
Crichton gave him an understanding, amused look, which Crais couldn't comprehend. He waved it off though, he had too much on his mind already.  
  
"Contact me the microt he has finished," he ordered and immediately marched off down the corridor, not bothering to see what the others did.  
  
He walked until his shins began to cramp and then he allowed himself to stop, walking through one of the doors into a terrain reconstruction. Why they had bothered to create one here was beyond him. No one lived here.  
  
"Hello."  
  
Correction, one person did.  
  
Crais looked up, recognising the voice, but not believing his ears. "Cymma?" he asked, looking around.  
  
"Who else?"  
  
Cymma was sitting above him, on a tree branch. She should have fallen through it. There were no living plants here.  
  
"I did not know anyone lived here," Crais said, understanding the situation even as he said it.  
  
"I don't need food, or water. I can live here. I grew up here. I was even here when it was you in medical, a dench from death. A pivotal moment in your life, though you didn't realise it. Having your life saved by Marvio when every other commanding officer would have left you to die."  
  
Cymma didn't jump down. She disappeared and reappeared on the ground beside him.  
  
"And now it's another pivotal moment. Though it'll probably take you another ten cycles to realise it. Someone else who matters to you is in trouble."  
  
"Will she recover?" Crais asked, the words almost catching in his throat.  
  
Cymma shrugged. "Who knows? I don't see the future, I just closely observe the present."  
  
"You have seen Eowyn, then?" Crais asked, wanting to have his mind off Laynie if he could.  
  
"I have."  
  
"And can you explain the situation to me?"  
  
"I can."  
  
"Will you?" Crais said.  
  
Cymma moved back towards the tree and leant casually against its trunk. "She is my sister," she said. "We are twins, as you no doubt surmised."  
  
"But how?"  
  
"My species aid leviathans in distress. The leviathan in question was a prison ship, like Moya. My father was a guard on that ship. My mother posed as a Sebacean technician to gain access to it. They...recreated."  
  
Crais' eyes followed Cymma as she prowled around the tree trunk, running her hand down it.  
  
"We do not produce offspring as Sebaceans do. The mixing of energies produces a new life-form almost immediately. My parents brought forth both of us. Lacking understanding of Peacekeeper practices, my mother took me and left Eowyn to my father to raise. She thought it was the fairest solution."  
  
Cymma's expression darkened.  
  
"Of course, Eowyn was raised as a Peacekeeper. Only her Sebacean half will show on scanners and I doubt she has any idea she can change her state. Eventually we learned of her fate. I chose to alter my rest-state, so I did not appear Sebacean anymore."  
  
In a blink of an eye, Cymma's green feathers turned into golden locks.  
  
"Like this," she said. "No one could tell the difference."  
  
She moved closer to Crais, slipping her arms around his broad chest. "Not even you," she whispered.  
  
Crais kissed her hungrily. Truthfully, he felt no need or even desire for recreation, but he did feel the need to forget. Forget everything that had brought him here.  
  
**  
  
Crichton turned away from his high vantage point, laughing to himself. He was glad he'd followed Crais now. Eowyn Loth'Lorian and Bialar Crais, who would've thought it?  
  
**  
  
Crais, feeling no better now the initial release of tension was over, strode along the corridor. Cymma, now with feathers re-installed, was by his side. It had been an arn and he could wait no longer.  
  
"Doctor!" he demanded, as he walked into the medi-lab. "What is...?"  
  
He went pale as he saw the doctor's expression.  
  
"I have done all I can," the doctor responded. "But I do not know if it will be enough. I do not have the equipment to repair the damage. It requires too much energy."  
  
"That I can provide," Cymma said, as if she'd expected this all along. Before Crais or the doctor could comment, she had marched to Laynie, placed her hand on her chest and vanished.  
  
The doctor studied his monitors intensely. "This is incredible!" he said excitedly. "She is stabilising!"  
  
Crais knees threatened to collapse with relief.  
  
Then Cymma reappeared. "Frell!" she swore.  
  
"What is it?" Crais demanded, his muscles tensing up again in an instant.  
  
"I can't complete it! I'm not enough."  
  
"Will she live?" Crais asked, not realising he was holding his breath.  
  
"Live, yes," Cymma said, glancing at the doctor, who was still surveying his monitors gleefully. "But there's major damage, Crais."  
  
"If we take her back to head-quarters..." Crais began.  
  
"They will be able to do nothing," Cymma finished. "It's too deep. If I had more energy, I could repair it, but..."  
  
Crais' eyes met hers as they turned to look at each other. Crais hit his comms. "Eowyn," he said. "Please report to medical."  
  
**  
  
"I'm here, what do you...?" Eowyn said. Then she saw Cymma.   
  
It took a lot to shock a Red Star.  
  
"What the...? How...?" Eowyn tried to say.  
  
Cymma walked over to her, placed one hand on her chest and they both vanished. A microt later, they reappeared.  
  
"What do we do?" Eowyn asked, no longer uncertain. Crais couldn't even begin to guess what they had just shared.  
  
Cymma led Eowyn to the medi-bed. They placed their hands one on top of the other on Laynie's chest and vanished again.  
  
"Incredible," the doctor said, eyes still on his monitor.  
  
Crais stood, waiting. It was pure torture. Microts felt like arns.  
  
And then Laynie suddenly stirred, opening her eyes and blinking at the bright lights of the medi-bay. Crais was by her side almost instantly.  
  
"Whashappened?" she mumbled. "Where am I?"  
  
"Charis station," Crais said, hands folded safely behind his back. "You had a large dose of radiation."  
  
"Oh," Laynie said. "That's what they meant."  
  
"Who?" Crais asked.  
  
"The angels," Laynie said, sounding like she was a little light-headed. "My mother always told me they were real. Must apologise for doubting her. First thing tomorrow."  
  
"There were no angels," Crais said. "Eowyn...and another doctor...healed you."  
  
"No," Laynie murmured. "Angels."  
  
Crais gave into temptation and stroked her hair gently, wondering how he could possibly manage to stay away from this woman. Laynie snuggled closer, nuzzling his hand. "You're an angel too," she whispered. "My angel. You're the one I want to share my life with."  
  
Crais couldn't have spoken if his life had depended on it.  
  
It took him a few microts to realise that Laynie had drifted off to sleep. He very carefully extracted his hand and moved away. Fortunately, the doctor didn't appear to have heard anything, he was still staring rapturously at his monitor.  
  
"Amazing," he said. "The energy transfer. One hundred percent efficiency. Nothing wasted."  
  
"What?" Crais asked, not understanding him.  
  
"A complete transfer of life energy," the doctor said, glancing up briefly. "I've never seen it performed so successfully."  
  
"Transfer?" Crais said sharply. "You mean...?"  
  
"They have sacrificed their lives to save your wife."  
  
Crais didn't know which part of that to respond to first. "You cannot mean that... And she is not..." He looked down at Laynie, sleeping peacefully. "She is not my wife," he said, swallowing hard. "And how can they have done this?"  
  
"I'm a doctor, not a psychic."  
  
Crichton strode through the door. "What's going on?" he asked. "Is she okay?"  
  
Crais turned to the doctor. "Can Dr. Taan travel?" he asked.  
  
"Certainly," the doctor replied.  
  
"Then we are done here," Crais said, bending to pick up Laynie, trying not to notice the way she snuggled against his chest. "We should depart."  
  
"Whoa," Crichton said, holding up his hands. "Where's Eowyn?"  
  
Everything was too jumbled up in Crais' head to attempt an explanation. "It is a long story," he said. "Suffice to say, she will not be returning with us."  
  
He walked out, past Crichton, who looked round confusedly for a few microts, as if he expected Eowyn to materialise in front of him, then shrugged and deactivated the medical program. The doctor vanished. No signs of life left.  
  
**  
  
"Are you feeling better?" Crais asked, as Laynie slipped into the seat beside him in command, not questioning how he knew it was her.  
  
"Much," Laynie replied quietly. "I just want to understand how this all happened."  
  
Crais explained as best he could, given that he didn't really understand it himself.  
  
"I can't believe she was willing to do this," Laynie said quietly. "And...Cymma. She didn't even know me."  
  
"She obviously believed that you were worth saving," Crais replied.  
  
"I guess she did," Laynie said.  
  
There was silence, while Crais tried to work out how to begin.  
  
"What...you said in the medi-lab..." he began.  
  
"What did I say?" Laynie asked.  
  
Crais turned to her. Her brow was furrowed and she looked genuinely confused. She didn't remember.  
  
"Nothing of consequence," he said, turning away again.  
  
He could feel Laynie looking at him, but he didn't turn back.  
  
"Okay," she said finally. "If it wasn't anything important."  
  
There was silence again.  
  
"I guess I'll go then," she said.  
  
Crais wanted to stop her and hurry her at the same time. He said nothing.  
  
Crichton came in as Laynie went out, so he got no peace even then.  
  
"Crais..." Crichton said, slowly, sounding strange. "I just wanted to see...how you were doing."  
  
"I am fine," Crais replied, at a loss as to why Crichton was asking.  
  
"I figured you'd say that," Crichton said, approaching him. "But I just...I just thought I'd let you know that I understand and I'm here. You know, if you need to talk to someone.  
  
Crais blinked several times. "About what?" he asked, thoroughly confused.  
  
"I know, Crais," Crichton said.  
  
Crais' stomach clenched. His feelings for Laynie could surely not be so obvious.  
  
"You and Eowyn," Crichton said, running his fingers through his hair. "I never would've thought it, but then I don't pretend to know your taste. But that's not important, what matters is that I know what it's like to lose someone you care about."  
  
Crais was struck dumb. Then he started to smile and soon was laughing properly. The sound reverberated off the walls.   
  
"You...thought that Eowyn and I were involved?" he choked out, remembering her suggestion of a group effort and laughing even harder.  
  
"C'mon, Crais, I figured it out! And you're getting hysterical."  
  
Crais laughed still harder. All the tension he'd built up since joining the resistance seemed to explode. He knew he was hysterical, but he couldn't possibly stop laughing.  
  
"We...are...not..." he tried again.  
  
"I won't tell anyone," Crichton assured him. "Okay, I have to do this."  
  
Next thing Crais knew, Crichton's fist connected with his jaw. It did subdue his laughter very effectively. "I may court martial you for that," he said, moving his jaw from side to side gingerly. He felt too relaxed to get worked up again.  
  
"It's okay," Crichton said again. "Your secret's safe with me. I mean, that's what you meant, isn't it? When you said she shouldn't go with so little security?"  
  
Crais opened his mouth to deny it and stopped. At the very least, this kept Crichton's suspicion from falling elsewhere. He said nothing instead.  
  
Crichton clapped his hand down on Crais' shoulder. "I'm here for you, man," he said.  
  
They stared at each other, Crais suddenly very curious to find out what would happen next.  
  
"Well," Crichton said awkwardly, removing his hand. "You know where I am."  
  
"I do," Crais replied.  
  
"So," Crichton said, starting to move away. "I'm just going to...go."  
  
"Very well," Crais said.  
  
"Cool," Crichton said, and left.  
  
Crais got about ten microts of entertainment from that.  
  
And then he went back to thinking about Laynie.  
  
**  
  
Crichton walked to the quarters he was sharing with Crais later that evening and found Laynie hovering around outside them.  
  
"Looking for me?" he asked.  
  
Laynie jumped and flushed. Weird.  
  
"I was just going to...discuss something with Captain Crais," she said. "Medical."  
  
"I'd leave it until tomorrow," Crichton said, stopping outside the door. "I doubt he's in the mood for it now. Hurting, you know, though he won't admit it."  
  
"Hurting?" Laynie asked, her expression confused.  
  
"Yeah," Crichton said, lowering his voice confidentially. "He and Eowyn had this thing going."  
  
Laynie looked thunderstruck.   
  
"I know," Crichton said. "Not an obvious couple."  
  
Laynie shook her head as she leant against the wall weakly. "No," she said. "Not...obvious."  
  
"I mean, he had this little fling with Cymma, but that was Talyn's mating hormones. Eowyn - can't explain that. Guess he likes women who order him about. Not what I would have expected from him." Crichton shook his head. "Oh well, there's nowt as queer as folk."  
  
"I think you're right," Laynie said, suddenly. "I think I'll leave this until later."  
  
She headed off down the corridor, raking her fingers through her hair. She looked even more stunned than Crichton felt.  
  
But then, Crais and Eowyn, who wouldn't be?  
  
**  
  
"The mission was to alter Grayza's implant, not to destroy a medical centre full of innocent civilians," Crais snapped. "And it is hardly in keeping with our low profile. How long until every Peacekeeper ship knows we are here?"  
  
"May I assume that you consider this a significant tactical error?" Kinsella said, nostrils flaring.  
  
"Is there any other conclusion?" Crais shot back.  
  
"There were several key personnel on board that station, as well as Grayza," Kinsella answered. "It was a chance that could not be missed."  
  
"You ordered this?" Crais asked, disbelieving.  
  
"Captain Kinsella does not have the authority to do that," Marvio answered, sitting calmly in his chair.  
  
Crais turned to him. "But you do," he stated quietly.  
  
"I felt it was for the best," Marvio replied. "Though the loss of life was unfortunate."  
  
"Why was I not informed of this?" Crais asked, his fingernails digging into his flesh as he clenched his fists behind his back.  
  
"Lt. Loth'Lorian..." Kinsella began.  
  
"Does not outrank me!" Crais exclaimed.  
  
"...has some traits that you lack," Kinsella finished.  
  
Crais turned to her, furious. "What I lack is an understanding of how you expect me to command a mission when I am mis-informed about what that mission is!"  
  
Marvio chuckled dryly, folding his hands over his stomach. "Welcome to the resistance," he said.  
  
"Forgive me, Captain," Crais said, looking his former mentor straight in the eye, "if I do not consider that sufficient reason."  
  
"Oh, I am quite happy to forgive you, Bialar," Marvio remarked. "But it will have very little impact on anything."  
  
"So, I am expected to accept that secrets will be kept from me, even though I am second in command here?" Crais demanded.  
  
"I am afraid so," Marvio replied. Kinsella nodded maliciously beside him.  
  
Crais bristled. "When I am Captain here," he said tightly, unable to resist the insubordination. "Nothing will go on behind my back!"  
  
Marvio and Kinsella exchanged looks of barely-hidden amusement. "Believe that," Marvio said, "if it suits you. But you are quite wrong."  
  
Crais tried not to glower too much.  
  
**  
  
They had been back at Head Quarters for a weeken. It was early evening when Crais reached sunset peak once again. He'd needed to escape.  
  
Crichton's ecstatic face when he'd sought Crais out to announce that Aeryn had apparently taken leave of her senses and agreed to be bonded to him, had set Crais to thinking. Life outside the Peacekeepers seemed to involve a great deal of thinking. And the more he thought, the less he was sure of. It was horribly unsettling.  
  
There were so many conflicting things in his mind. His new position, his future position - the time indefinite, which made it worse - as Commander-In-Chief, Laynie, Crichton and Aeryn, Laynie, Cymma and Eowyn, Laynie, life in the resistance, Laynie. As a Peacekeeper, all he'd wanted was to command his own ship and protect his brother. Now, frankly, he had no idea what he wanted.  
  
"We have to stop meeting like this."  
  
It was fitting that she would be the one to find him. He was thinking about her so much that it was as if she had already been there.  
  
Crais stood to greet her. "Doctor," he said.  
  
"Captain," Laynie replied.  
  
Crais could see endless cycles stretching out in front of them, full of uncertainty about what they should do next.  
  
"I...wanted to see how you were," Laynie said.   
  
"I should ask you the same question," Crais replied.  
  
"I'm fine," Laynie said, rubbing her stomach self-consciously. "It looks like I'll still be able to have children. Which is...good."  
  
Crais nodded, trying not to remember her words on Charis.  
  
"Listen," Laynie said. "Eowyn was my friend for a long time, so I'm hurting. But I can't imagine how you must feel right now."  
  
It took Crais a few microts to understand what she could possibly mean by that.  
  
"Laynie," he said. "I mean...Doctor. There was nothing between Eowyn and myself. Crichton...has become delusional."  
  
"Oh," Laynie said, looking embarrassed. "Oh, right. Of course not. I didn't really think she was your type."  
  
"She is not," Crais confirmed.  
  
"Right," Laynie said again. "So, I'm sure you're fine then. So, I'll just go."  
  
She turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, I found another solution to your allergies," she said, turning back. "I've fixed up an implant for you. It'll be like having a transponder, only less invasive obviously. No more sneezing."  
  
"Thank you," Crais answered.   
  
"I guess that's all there is to say," Laynie said, looking at Crais.  
  
"Yes," Crais replied. "For now, at least."  
  
Then he wondered why he had added that last part.  
  
"I believe I will come back with you," he found himself saying.  
  
"Going to brave Commander Crichton's party?" Laynie said, smiling again.  
  
Crais snorted as he came to join her. "He does have a talent for over-reaction."  
  
"They're getting married," Laynie said. "He's entitled to over-react."  
  
"I would never behave so ridiculously," Crais said, before he thought.  
  
Laynie made a sound that Crais refused to accept as a sigh, as they started to walk down together.  
  
"No," she said. "Perhaps you won't." 


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
Nine Cycles later...  
  
Crais sat on the end of his bed, numb. Unable to fully process the events of the day, now that he no longer had the adrenaline rush to keep him moving. His Captain, his mentor, the man who had changed his life so much without him realising it, was dead. And Crais now led the resistance. He'd dreamed of this day for so long, he'd never questioned before if he was truly ready for it.  
  
The door chimes rang.  
  
Crais pulled himself up and walked slowly to the door. He pressed the controls and it slid open. And he saw Laynie.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked, brow furrowed in concern.  
  
How many times had she asked him that over the cycles? Yet, he never ceased to be glad to see her.  
  
"I am a little..." Crais tried to answer, and then gave up because he couldn't find a word.  
  
"That's what I thought," Laynie said softly, coming in as Crais moved back from the door. It slid shut behind them. Crais locked it, barely realising he was doing it and not questioning why.  
  
"I thought you might need to talk it out," she said, settling herself next to where Crais had been sitting. "And I've given up imagining that you'll come to me."  
  
Crais returned to the bed and sat down beside her. He didn't even bother to think about how much he wanted to pull her to him right then. After all this time, he'd somehow adjusted to the permanent state of longing.  
  
"I do not know...what will happen now," he admitted. "Although I have been waiting for this since I came here...it is still sudden. And, for the first time, I...doubt my own suitability for the position."  
  
There was no one else in the universe he would have admitted that to.  
  
"I don't," Laynie said. She was looking right at him, although Crais had his head bowed and was looking at his clasped hands. "You were born for this and you're ready. Marvio knew it, he never had the slightest doubt."  
  
Crais smiled to himself. "This is the man who chose Commander Crichton to be my second-in-command," he said wryly.  
  
"Commander Crichton is Head of Intelligence and has been for three cycles," Laynie softly rebuked him. "He is more competent than you give him credit for."  
  
Crais chuckled quietly. "I have still not succeeded in making myself believe that," he said.  
  
"Or that Kinsella appointed him to it," Laynie said. Crais knew she was grinning. "One microt she was throwing info-pads at his head, the next she's gone and we find she wants him to take over."  
  
"Unbelievable," Crais said.  
  
"Completely," Laynie replied.  
  
Silence.  
  
"But it worked," Laynie said. "Kinsella had the same vision as Marvio did. She knew where to put her attention. I wouldn't be surprised if the resistance flourishes even more with you two in command."  
  
"I thank you for your confidence," Crais said quietly.  
  
"After nine cycles," Laynie said. "It can't be misplaced."  
  
And then she leaned across to kiss him on the cheek.  
  
For the rest of his life, Crais wondered if he had realised what she was doing and turned his head deliberately. He could never decide the question.  
  
Their lips met and, for possibly the first time in nine cycles, Crais forgot how to think. One of his hands wound itself in her hair, the other slid round her back. He felt Laynie's hands on him as their lips caressed each other's, their mouths opening instinctively as the kiss deepened. Nine cycles of longing bubbling to the surface.  
  
They pulled back at the same time, eyes locking, their breathing heavy.  
  
"Bialar...this will change everything," Laynie whispered. Her voice was rough, her eyes bright with desire.  
  
"Everything has already changed," Crais replied.  
  
They stared at each other for a few microts.  
  
And then they leapt on each other.  
  
THE END 


End file.
